


I Wanna Take You to the Gay Bar

by Harleydoll



Category: X-Men, X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Angst and Humor, Dragneto, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Wordcount: 5.000-15.000, drunk!Charles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-04
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-24 07:49:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 36,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harleydoll/pseuds/Harleydoll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raven drags Charles to a gay bar to see her favourite musician. Charles is convinced this is a bad idea until he meets Erika, who teaches him that there's more to both of them than meets the eye. No powers, general warnings for copious amounts of sex, alcohol, swearing, and eventual angst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Zelda's

“You know, maybe it's best we called it a night. I've got papers to grade and--”

“Oh come _on_ , Charles, it'll be fun!” Raven pulled her older brother towards Zelda's, the newest and most flamboyant addition to Westchester nightlife. “Besides, you can't honestly tell me you've never wanted to see the inside of a gay bar.”

“I've never wanted to see the inside of a gay bar.” Charles replied flatly. “Can we go now?”

“No!” Raven frowned at him. “ You promised you would take me to the Allison Blaire concert!”

“Yes, well, I didn't realize it was going to be here,” he muttered. He glanced up at Raven and sighed. “Fine, he conceded. “But you're coming with me to Dr. McCoy's lecture on genetic mutation next Thursday.”

“Ugh, fine, whatever. And by the way, do you actually own anything other than khakis and cardigans? You look like such a professor!”

“I _am_ a professor.”

“Doesn't mean you have to dress like one!”

Before Charles could respond, a burly-looking bouncer appeared before them and growled, “ID.” Raven and Charles complied, and they were soon through the cloud of the his cigar smoke and in the club. Charles couldn't help but gape at the scene before him, men and women alike dressed in everything from coattails and cocktail dresses to leather pants and more glitter than Charles had ever thought humanly possible.

“Well don't just stand there, _Professor_ ,” Raven was practically vibrating with excitement. “get me a porn star and meet me by the stage!”

“Um. What?” Had he heard that right?

“The drink, dipswitch!” And with that she was gone, lost in a sea of leather and lace, leaving Charles with no choice but to make his way awkwardly over to the bar.

“What'll it be, hon?” the bartender appraised Charles through feathered eyelashes.

“A, ah, a pint of lager and um, a porn star.” Charles shifted uncomfortably under the bartender's gaze.

“Kinky.” Charles spun to find man leaning on the counter beside him, wearing a very, very short blue dress and what appeared to be a ladies' brown wig.

“Um.” _Those legs_. Charles blushed at the thought, bringing a sharky smile to Blue Dress' face.

“Nice khakis,” Blue Dress said, and with that he (she?) disappeared back into the crowd. Charles stared after her (him?), then checked himself, grabbed the drinks off the counter and went in search of Raven.

“Took you long enough,” Raven popped up beside him and took the drink from Charles' shaking hand. “Come on, Allison will be on any minute!”

The lights dimmed as she spoke, giving the club a deep, smoky ambiance as they stepped onto the dance floor. Wait...dance floor?

“Raven.” Charles pointed downwards. “what is this?”

“It's a dance floor, Charles,” Raven rolled her eyes.

“Yes yes, I know that. But why am I on it?”

“God, you really don't know how to have fun, do you? When was the last time you even left your study?”

“I--” but Charles was cut off as the entire club was lit up with a bright white light and what Charles could only describe as pure _sound_. He stumbled backwards, trying to regain his eyesight and instead crashing into the person directly behind him. He rubbed his eyes and came face to face with Blue Dress, staring through a martini glass at Charles with a bemused expression.

 _I'm sorry_ , Charles attempted to mouth the words at Blue Dress before dashing towards an empty table, far from the dance floor. He fell gratefully into an available chair and glanced back towards where he had left Raven. Allison Blaire had taken the stage in a sparkling white jumpsuit and roller skates, and he couldn't help but smile as he watched Raven's enthusiastic cheering. It was times like this that Charles wished he could be more like his sister - able to adapt to any social situation, and to feel comfortable in his own skin. Here he was sitting here like a tool in a bloody sweater-vest and khakis, in the midst of so much glitter and glam that he'd be finding sparkles in his hair and clothes for the next six months at least, while Raven was out there dancing like no one was watching and having the time of her life.

“You're a lucky man.”

Charles jumped at the sound of an all too familiar voice, and saw that Blue Dress had taken a seat in the chair next to him.

“Your girlfriend?”

“Oh no, no, God no. That's my sister!” Charles exclaimed, taken aback by the suggestion.

Blue Dress smiled that shark-like smile again, seemingly endless rows of teeth glinting off the light from the disco ball above.  
“All the better, then.” He leaned forward, resting his head on his knuckles. “Your accent is very sexy. British, no?”

Charles squirmed under Blue Dress' gaze. Was this actually happening?

“Y-yeah,” Charles managed to stammer.

The smile widened, and Charles was unable to keep the blush from spreading over his cheeks. Suddenly, Blue Dress grabbed Charles' hand and tugged him to his feet.

“What are you doing?”  
“Relax darling, we're just going to find somewhere we can talk and you won't have that ridiculous deer-in-headlights look plastered on your face. Although,” he added, glancing over at Charles as they walked, “You look adorable when you're all flustered.”

“This only made Charles blush an even deeper shade of red, but he allowed himself to be led upstairs to a small alcove sporting a plush velvet loveseat and a small side table. Blue Dress flopped down on the loveseat, the dress hitching up as he crossed his legs at the knee. Charles tried his best not to stare as he sat down.

“Better?” asked Blue Dress.

Charles nodded. In fact, the music and people seemed like a distant memory now, and he was surprised at how comfortable he felt with this strange individual.

“This isn't really your scene, is it?”

Charles smiled. “No, not really.”

“Let me guess. You're here because your sister dragged you out to see her favourite singer, and you, being some form of professor with a very small wardrobe and an even smaller social life, are amusing her in exchange for her undying gratitude and some form of monetary bribe.”

“Am I that obvious?”

“Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answers?” Blue Dress extended a hand, and Charles took it tentatively. “I'm Erika.”

“Charles.”

“Nice to meet you, Charles.” They locked eyes for what seemed like an eternity, and then Erika smirked. “You can let go of my hand anytime now.”

Charles snatched his hand back with a start. “Oh, um, sorry.” He cast his eyes downwards and once again his gaze was drawn immediately to Erika's legs, so long and smooth and perfect and _oh those legs_. It was no wonder he (or, Charles supposed, _she_ ) wore such a short dress. With legs like that why would she keep them hidden?

Erika watched Charles with great amusement. “You know for a straight guy you seem to be having an awful lot of trouble keeping your eyes off of me.”

Charles' eyes shot up to Erika's, the color rising to his cheeks once again. “I find your legs quite distracting,” he blurted out, and then clapped a hand over his mouth.

Erika burst out laughing. “I love a man who's not afraid to speak his mind.”

“I just meant that, well, you _shaved_.”

“Well I couldn't very well walk around with legs like Wolverine in this dress, now could I? And I waxed them, by the way.”

“Wolverine?”

“The bouncer with the perpetual cloud of smoke. Disgusting, really.”

“I'm not a fan of smokers, either.”

“I meant his legs.”

They looked at each other and laughed.

“I think it's time for shots,” Erika announced, gesturing to a server on the far side of the room.

“Oh no, I don't really--” Charles tried to interject, but the server was already setting four tequila shots down on the table before them. Erika picked up two glasses and held one out to Charles expectantly. _It's just one shot_ , Charles thought, taking the proffered glass. _What's the harm in that?_

“Bottom's up!” they downed their shots together, Charles nearly choking on his as it went down.

“That tasted terrible,” Charles cringed and set the glass back down.

“I know,” Erika replied with a grin. “Ready for the next one?”

 _No_ , Charles thought, but he raised the second shot to his lips and downed it anyway, while Erika did the same.

“Much better the second time,” Charles noted, and Erika nodded in agreement.

The third and fourth shots were even smoother than the first two, and shortly after Charles found himself using Erika's shoulder as a pillow and having to concentrate very hard to string a sentence together.

“But you see, mutation took us from single-celled orga..orga...um...word?” he slurred.

“Orgasms?” Erika offered.

“Yes! Um...wait, no, the other one. You know...that one. The single-celled....things.”

“I really think you mean orgasms. Although the 'single' part doesn't sound like much fun.”

“No, but the...” Charles trailed off and peered up at his new friend. “What were we talking about?”

“No idea. Drink your water.”

“Don't want water. 'Nother shot?”

“Don't you think you've had enough, you lush?”

“Charles shook his head, then squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his face into Erika's shoulder. “Make the room stop...that. Just stop.”

“Uh-huh.” Erika slipped an arm around him, who started at the sudden intimacy but didn't pull away. “You're cut off.”

Charles sighed heavily and watched Erika take another shot. “How come you get more, um,that. Not fair.”

“Not my fault you're such a lightweight, darling.”

“Four shots is not a...hm. That.”

Erika sat up suddenly, causing Charles' head to fall into her lap.

“Some pillow you are,” Charles complained.

“The concert's done, love. Your sister will be looking for you.”

Charles sat up and clambered unsteadily to his feet. “gotta go find her then,” he slurred. “giver her a ride home.”

Erika rolled her eyes. “because I'm definitely going to get you smashed and then let you drive so you can smash someone else." She gestured again to the server, who nodded in assent. “Let's get you downstairs, I've called you a cab.”

25 minutes later, after much fumbling, falling, and mumbled “Sorry”s on Charles' part, they had maneuvered down to the main floor to find Raven searching frantically for her brother. Her anxiety quickly turned to shock when she caught sight of the pair heading towards her.

“Apparently the deer-in-headlights look runs in the family,” Erika drawled. “Come on then, there's a cab waiting out front.”

Not knowing what else to do, Raven slipped Charles' free arm over her shoulder and allowed Erika to lead them outside.

“Who's your new friend, Charles?” Raven stared at Erika as she spoke.

“Not tequila!” Charles replied, and laughed as if that was the funniest thing he'd heard all night.”

“I meant the dude in the dress!” Raven hissed.

They stopped in front of the cab and Erika glanced over at her. “This 'dude in a dress' also has perfect hearing, you know.”

Raven turned beet red and turned away to open the door of the cab.

“Get in and slide over,” Erika commanded. Raven did as she was told, and Charles practically fell in beside her. “Straight to bed now, darling. You don't seem like the type to have a full liquor cabinet at home, but all the same...”

Charles just grinned stupidly up at Erika, who leaned in and kissed him on the forehead, then paused for a moment before planting one on his lips. Charles, too drunk to say anything at this point, wrapped his arms around Erika's neck and brought them closer together. Raven just gaped at her brother, unable to believe her eyes as Erika broke the kiss and smiled. “Good night, Charles.”

“Mmm. Night.” Charles slumped back into his seat and closed his eyes as Erika slammed the car door and they drove away.

“Okay, what the hell was that???” Raven's words rattled around in Charles' brain and he cringed.

“Too loud,” he complained.

“Too bad,” Raven retorted. “Spill. Now.”

“Um. There was white...um...thing. And like. _Sound_. And then there was Erika. With. um. That word. Single celled things. And also shots.” Charles glanced over at her. “ _Lots_ of shots.”

“Great. My brother's wasted off of tequila and a fucking cross-dresser.” Raven threw up her hands. “And here I was thinking you would be the responsible adult tonight.”

“I'm resp...respon...that. I got a cab and everything.”

“Your new friend got us the cab, idiot.”

“Well I got the friend who knew the guy who called the cab.”

“You can keep that straight, but you can't say 'responsible'?”

“Shut up, Raven.” Charles closed his eyes again, and Raven glared at him, but didn't say another word.

With Raven's assistance, Charles eventually made it upstairs and into his bed, and suddenly pillows were the most fantastic thing Charles had ever felt in his life. Raven tucked him in, clothes and all, and sat down at the edge of the bed.

“So...you know that was a dude, right?”

“Shut up, Raven,” Charles repeated.

“Charles, seriously. What did you get yourself into?”

“I...sleep. Please?”

“Charles.”

“Um. He. She. Erika. I just...” Charles sighed. “It felt good, okay? Comf...comfro... _nice._ ”

Raven raised an eyebrow. “Did you guys...”

“No! Just talking. And shots.”

“You're sure?”

“Yes I'm sure, Raven. What are you, my mother? No, scratch that. My mother would never ask this many questions. Or any, for that matter.”

“I'm just concerned, Charles. I left you alone for 2 minutes and then I found you drunk and hanging off of a man in a blue cocktail dress. What was I supposed to think?”

“Can I sleep now?”

Raven stared into his eyes for a moment, then nodded. “Good night, big brother.”

Charles closed his eyes again and was unconscious before Raven had turned out the lights. She smiled and shook her head as she closed the door. That was going to be one hell of a hangover in the morning.


	2. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles couldn't remember the last time he felt this hung over. Well, that wasn't technically true, but that was his story and he was sticking to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of switched between personal pronouns for Erik/a here to reflect the ways that his perception of Erik/a changes throughout. Also thanks so much for all the kind feedback and 333 pageviews in less than 24 hours - you really know how to make a girl feel wanted ^_^

Charles spent the next day in his study wearing only a pair of dark sunglasses and track pants, making a very poor attempt at grading papers. His teeth felt odd in his mouth no matter how many times he brushed them, and the smallest noise rang painfully in his ears. Charles couldn't remember the last time he felt this hung over. Well, that wasn't technically true, but that was his story and he was sticking to it. He tried to focus on the paper before him, but the words just blurred together and made the headache worse. Finally, he conceded defeat and shoved it to one side. The students would just have to wait until the seminars for their marks. In the meantime, Charles shuffled back over to the bedroom and cuddled into his comforter. He still had time for a quick power nap before his evening lecture....

 

“Charles. _Charles_!”

“nnnnngh.” Charles pulled the blankets over his head and groaned. “What time is it?”

“It's quarter to 5.” Raven ripped the comforter from his grasp. “You have a class to teach in 15 minutes.”

“Shit!” Charles flew out of bed and booted it out the door, attempting to dress as he ran. “Why didn't wake me earlier?” he yelled. Charles took the steps two at a time and grabbed his coat and car keys from their respective hooks in the foyer. “You know its at least a 45 minute drive to campus!”

“You should have thought of that before you did that fourth shot!” Raven called from the top of the stairs, smirking as he flew out the door.

~ ~ ~

All things considered, Charles' lecture went pretty well. He came skidding in the door at 5:30 and was surprised to find a little less than half the class still in attendance.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, everyone,” he apologized as began turning off lights. Why was it so damn bright in here? “Before you ask, no, I don't have your papers graded and yes, I will get them to you next class.”

There was a collective groan from the back of the room, which Charles quickly silenced by announcing that he would be pushing back the midterm until next week. He managed the first nine slides before a wave of nausea hit and he leaned back on the podium for support.

“Are you all right, Professor?” Alex Summers leaned forward in his seat. “You aren't looking too good.”

“That would be 'well', Alex, and thank you, but I'm fine.” Charles clapped his hands together. “Why don't we end it there for today, and don't forget I've posted an article on Dr. Cecilia Reyes for your seminars this week.”

The students filed out, and Charles could pick out some bits of conversation: “Man, what is up with the Prof? He's never late!” “Someone had a good time last night!” and of course Sean's enthusiastic, “Hell yeah no test next week!”

Charles wasted no time in heading out as well, only to slam headfirst into the nearest student and dropping his jacket, papers, and keys all over the classroom floor.

“I'm so sorry,” Charles apologized as the student knelt down to help him collect the fallen belongings. They stood up at the same time and Charles realized that it wasn't a student at all, but a young man about the same age as Charles. He was tall and lean, his stature accentuated by a black turtleneck and khakis.

“You're not one of my students.” It was a statement of fact, not a question.

“I...no, not really,” the man admitted.

“Interested in molecular genetics, then?”

“I just thought...since I'm here and all...”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “Since you're here?”

“I'm a grading assistant in the Ethics Department,” he clarified. “I work for Professor Shaw, but the pay grade is, well...” he trailed off again.

“Not enough for a graduate education,” Charles clarified with a smile. The stranger nodded. “Well then, ah...”

“Erik. Erik Lehnsherr.” he offered.

“Erik, then. You're welcome to audit my class anytime.”

“Thank you, Professor!” Erik grinned then, and Charles suddenly had a moment of deja vu. Erik's smile dissipated. “Something wrong?”

“No, not at all.” Charles offered his hand. “And please, call me Charles.” Erik shook it, and again this whole scene seemed far too familiar. Could it be...? Charles concentrated on Erik's face, trying to place it, but another wave of nausea overtook him and he gave up immediately.

“I'll see you next week, then,” Charles said hurriedly, and rushed out the door. Erik watched him leave, his confused expression shifting into one of amusement as he thought just how cute Charles was when he was flustered.

~ ~ ~

 

“So...we're thinking Erik and Erika are one and the same?”

“I don't know what I think, Raven. For all I know it was just the hangover talking.”

They were in the study, Raven curled up with a a cup of tea while Charles took another crack at getting those papers graded, his own tea quickly getting cold from neglect.

“Wishful thinking,” Raven nodded sagely.

“What? No!” Charles glared at her. “Why would you even...no!”

“Don't try to deny it Charles. You were all over that guy last night.”

“Maybe because I was _falling_ over drunk--”

“Yeah and who were you doing the shots with?” Raven retorted.

“I--”

“All alone in a secluded area of the club where no one could see what you got up to?”

“It was just--”

“And who practically carried you down the stairs, hmm? Not to mention that super hot kiss in the taxi!” Raven wiggled her eyebrows at him.

“Blame it on the tequila?” Charles offered weakly, knowing full well he had already lost this battle. Raven's eyes bored into his until Charles dropped his gaze, clearly embarrassed.

“Oh, alright. I liked him. Her. Whatever. But it was just one stupid, drunken night, and it's not like I'm ever going to see her – him – again.”

“Why not? The bar's just a cab ride away,” Raven pointed out. “I wouldn't suggest taking the car after last night's adventure.”

“I'd really rather move on from the whole experience,” Charles insisted. “Wait a minute – the car is still there, isn't it?”

Raven thought for a moment before replying, “Yeah, I guess it is!” She smirked. “Guess you're going back after all.”

Charles sighed and put down the paper he was working on.

“Where are you going?”

“To get the car.”

“You just can't wait to be back in the arms of Mister Blue Dress, can you?”

“I'm just going to taxi up, grab the car, and come back. I'll be back in forty minutes maximum.”

“Uh-huh.” Raven looked down her nose at him. “I won't wait up.”

Charles just shook his head and left Raven to fantasize about what kind of trouble Charles would get up to tonight.

~ ~ ~

When Charles arrived at the club, his car was nowhere to be found. He searched up and down both sides of the street, even asked the gruff cigar-smoking bouncer ( _Wolverine_ , Charles remembered), who proceeded to inform him that “some blonde chick” came by that afternoon and picked it up.

 _Damn that Raven_ , Charles thought.

“Move it, bub,” Wolverine growled. “Yer holdin' up the line.”

Charles was suddenly pushed towards the entrance, and before he knew it he was inside. He could feel the weight of the crowded room pressing down on him, and suddenly the exit seemed very far away. _At least the lights are dimmed_ , Charles thought. He reached into his pocket for his cell phone, only to find that it wasn't there. So much for calling a cab. Charles sighed in defeat and headed for the bar. There had to be a phone somewhere in this place.

“Back for another porn star, hon?” The bartender was wearing a set of silver eyelashes tonight, extending right up to her pierced eyebrows.

“Ah, no actually I wondered if you could call a cab for me?”

She nodded and handed him a familiar blue drink. “On the house. Your ride'll be here in 15.”

Charles accepted the porn star and downed it immediately. He was done arguing tonight and besides, he'd always heard the best way to cure a lingering hangover was with more alcohol.

“Couldn't stay away, hmm?” Erika appeared behind him with a smile and some form of martini in her hand. She'd traded last night's cocktail dress for a black miniskirt and glittering blue halter top.

“No thanks to my bloody sister,” Charles muttered, then, more audibly, “No, I suppose not.”

Erika sat down next to him, her bare legs brushing against Charles' thighs as she slid onto the bar stool. Charles tried not to notice, but he couldn't keep the slight tremor out of his voice when he ordered another drink. He downed that one as well while Erika watched him, bemused with his apparent anxiety.

“How are you here again?”

“Well you see there's this thing called an automobile--”

“I mean how are you not ridiculously hung over still? You had far more to drink than I did last night, and don't even get me started on the day I had. At least, the parts I wasn't unconscious for,” Charles added.

Erika pointed a finger at him. “There. That's where you screwed up.”

“What do you mean?”

“You fell asleep. That just makes everything worse. Light becomes your enemy and you spend the next night over either a toilet or more alcohol. Case in point.” She glanced at Charles' empty glass and leaned forward. “My answer? Coffee. Keeps you awake and it's a diuretic. Gets all the alcohol out of your system by morning. _Then_ you can sleep, and know that when you get up in 8-12 hours, you'll be refreshed and ready to do it all over again.”

“But don't you have somewhere to be during the day? A job, or school, or...” _my_ class? Charles added silently.

Erika looked away. “We can't all afford a graduate education and a Ph. D., darling.”

“But you must have something outside of, well, this.” Charles gestured around them. “the liver damage alone--”

“Just drop it, alright? This, right here, right now is what matters. This is who I am.” She finished off her martini in one gulp and slammed it on the counter. It was immediately replaced with a fresh glass, and Charles found that his had been topped up as well.

“Great service in this place,” Charles noted, trying to lighten the mood. “If this keeps up I'll be drunk before my cab gets here.”

“Sobriety was never an option,” Erika replied dryly. “Wait, you're not planning on leaving? You just got here.”

“I told Raven – my sister – that I'd be home in half an hour. She'll be so goddamn smug if I end up drunk and on your arm again.”

“I can think of some other body parts I'd love for you to be on.”

Charles went beet red at the suggestion. “I--”

“Don't act all innocent, Charles. I've seen how you look at me, or more specifically my legs. There's a reason I wore this skirt tonight, you know.”

Charles was speechless, embarrassed by Erika's directness and his own blatantly obvious behaviour. Erika took his hand and placed it on her – _his_ , Charles reminded himself – thigh. His breathing hitched at the sudden contact and his hand seemed to move towards the hem of the miniskirt of it's own volition, where the visible bulge against black spandex reminded Charles that underneath Erika was all man. Charles withdrew his hand quickly and tried to seem disinterested, but the tightness in his own pants betrayed him. He downed his drink, which seemed to have mysteriously refilled yet again, and stood up.

“My cab should be here by now,” Charles' voice cracked as he turned to leave. Erika was on him in a flash, hands on his shoulders and pulling him close.

“Don't be like that,” Erika whispered into his hair. “We're the same, you and I. We both hide behind a persona because we aren't comfortable in our own skin – you the studious and devoted professor, and me in dresses and high heels. They're just faces, Charles. Faces we put on to feel like we have some sort of power in our lives. You have your lecture hall, and I have this.” He gestured around them. “...Don't go.”

It was barely above a whisper, but Charles felt those last words right down to his core. He spun around to face Erika and kissed him with an urgency that surprised them both, pressing so close it was like he wouldn't be satisfied unless every last inch of their bodies were touching. When they finally broke for air, still locked in each others' arms, Charles blushed and glanced around.

“People are staring.”

“Let them.”

“It's a bit...unsettling.”

“If you're so concerned, perhaps you should detach yourself from my person.” Erika smirked.

Charles' eyes widened almost comically. Erika laughed. “Oh relax, darling. I'm not letting you off that easily.” Charles did as he was told and they kissed again briefly this time, and then Erika raised an eyebrow.

“Now then, about that cab...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god. I enjoy writing this far too much XD XD Next chapter after the long weekend, or possibly during because I really really want to write what happens next! Thanks for reading ^___^


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erika closed the distance between them, entwining her right leg with Charles' left. “Nothing's impossible, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a long time coming, and I apologize to those of you who have been waiting, but I tend to write my fanfiction during class and I felt really awkward writing this in a room full of people >.>

Erika leaned across the counter of the bar, one arm still wrapped around Charles' waist, and dropped a fifty dollar bill on the counter.

“Hey, Jubejube,” he called.

“That's Jubilation to you, bitch,” the bartender replied, tucking the money into her bra.

“And that's Queen bitch to you,” Erika retorted with a grin. “Put a cap on it, love. Same time tomorrow?”

“You know that's not nearly enough to cover your tab for the week. And don't give me that sneaky little grin of yours, it's not getting you off this time.”

“Depends on what you mean by 'getting off',” Erika nodded at Charles, who thought this whole exchange was hilarious and burst into a fit of giggles. “Speaking of which, how many times did you refill his drink?”

“Um...”

“Jubilee.”

“...Four?”

“The truth, girl.”

“Six? I don't know, okay? I see an empty drink and I refill it. It's not like we can't spare the alcohol and besides, he's the one who kept drinking it.”

“I swear one of these days this place is going to get shut down for poisoning it's customers.” Erika shook his head. “At least it wasn't tequila again.”

“Hey I'm just doing my job. Which, by the way, you still owe me for.”

“I've got it,” Charles cut in, fumbling for his wallet.

“Don't you dare.”

Charles shrank under Erika's death glare, but it was gone just as suddenly as it appeared. “Don't be like that, darling,” Erika spoke soothingly in his ear. “I just prefer to pay my own way.”

“You should take him up on that,” Jubilee said. “Otherwise I'm going to need some collateral, and you don't seem to have much to offer.”

Erika knelt down for a moment, and when she stood back up she was about 3 inches shorter and holding a pair of metallic blue leather cuff stilettos.

“Here.” Erika slid them across the counter. “I'd say that covers this week's tab, and probably the rest of the month as well.”

“But these are your custom ordered Jimmy Choos!”

“I'm aware of that, but I need this place more than I need those shoes.”

Jubilee pushed them away. “I'm not taking these. We'll settle your tab later.”

Erika made no move to retrieve the shoes. “You asked for collateral.”

“Oh, for God's sake!” Charles snatched the shoes up, tossed a credit card on the counter, and was swiped, signed, and yanking on Erika's arm before she could say another word. “We're going. _Now_.”

He dragged Erika out of the club with surprising force and practically threw her into the waiting cab. Charles slid in as well and slammed the door. “1407 Graymalkin Lane, if you please.” Then, to Erika: “You just killed a perfectly good buzz, you know that?” He tossed the shoes onto her lap. “Honestly, one minute you're too perfect to even exist, and the next you've got this look like you want to shoot whomever you're speaking to and then yourself. If you would have just let me pay for the drinks ten minutes ago, most of which were probably mine anyway, we could be in my bed already.” _And on the floor, and the sofa, and every possible surface we run into on the way._

“I feel like there's a backhanded compliment in there somewhere, and I'm not quite sure how to take that.”

“Will you be serious for one minute?”

“I am being serious, Charles. And don't think I'm going to let you pull that on me again. I'm not a child, and I don't need your charity.”

“Then stop acting like one! I don't see what's wrong with me paying our collective tab for the last night and a half. If you feel that strongly about it, you can front the bill next week and I'll drink enough for the both of us just to spite you.”

“I'm so sure,” Erika smirked. “You let me know how that goes, mister 4 shots and a beer.”

“You really are impossible.”

Erika closed the distance between them, entwining her right leg with Charles' left. “Nothing's impossible, darling.” Her bare toes snuck inside Charles' pant leg, caressing his calf and causing Charles to let out a soft moan. Encouraged, Erika slid onto Charles' lap and straddled him before taking his mouth with her own ( _his_ own, Charles reminded himself as Erika's erection pressed against his stomach.). Charles arched his back into Erika's touch, whose hands were now exploring every inch of skin beneath Charles' shirt. He pulled Erika impossibly closer, nails digging into the small of her – his - _oh, who even gives a shit about personal pronouns_ , Charles thought, and then he stopped thinking altogether because Erika had taken to nibbling Charles' earlobe and _oh God don't stop_ , and when he felt Erika smiling into him he realized he'd said it aloud but it didn't matter, nothing mattered except here, now, _this_ \--

“1407 Greymalkin Lane.” Charles' eyes snapped open and glanced past Erika. The cab driver stared back expectantly. Charles fumbled underneath Erika in an attempt to find his Visa until Erika reached beneath them, slid it out from Charles' back pocket and handed it to the driver.

“What happened to 'I can take care of myself?'” Charles reached across Erika to sign and retrieve his card, and they untangled themselves just long enough to exit the vehicle.

“You're the one who called the—holy shit.” Erika's eyes widened as he took in the enormous mansion that Charles called home. “You live _here_?”

Charles shrugged. “It was part of the inheritance.”

“Inheritance? Who the fuck are you related – mmm.” Charles cut him off with a kiss and pushed Erika towards the front doors.

“Stop talking,” Charles commanded roughly.

Erika obeyed and they entered the foyer, the pair of blue Jimmy Choos left forgotten on plush carpeting as they stumbled giggling up the stairs, stealing kisses every few steps. .

“Ssshh,” Charles put a finger to Erika's lips. “Raven's around here somewhere, and I really don't want to hear her 'I told you so' right now.” Charles barely had time to shut the door before he was pushed backwards into the unmade bed and Erika was on top of him, leaning in to nuzzle Charles' jawline.

“You,” he whispered, “are wearing far too many layers.” Erika made quick work of the cardigan and button-down and tossed them to the floor. The khakis were next, and they were both surprised to find that Charles wasn't wearing anything else underneath.

“Um...blame it on the hangover?” Charles blushed fiercely under Erika's widening grin, which disappeared when Charles retaliated by deftly sliding Erika's miniskirt down his thighs and palming his erection. Erika moaned and leaned into Charles' touch, eyes half closed in pleasure.

“Looks like you had the same idea.” Charles took advantage of his dominance and sat up, simultaneously pushing Erika onto his back. He slid the miniskirt the rest of the way off and kissed the tip of his erection. Erika shuddered and arched his hips towards Charles' lips, which formed a smile as he ran his tongue along the underside of Erika's length, savouring the pre-come that glistened on its head. Charles leaned backwards to reach the drawer in the nightstand and Erika followed, sitting up so that Charles was straddling his thighs.

“Where do you think you're going?” he asked, tugging his shirt over his head as Charles revealed a jar of lubricant and a condom. “You're just full of surprises, aren't you?”

“I like to be prepared for every eventuality,” Charles replied. He slicked up two fingers and slid first one, and then the other inside himself, his eyes fluttering shut while he rode Erika's thighs. Erika let out a low groan and fisted his erection, stroking in time with Charles' fingers. Charles opened his eyes and batted Erika's hand away.

“No,” he whispered, “I want you all to myself.”

“Then shut up and fuck me!” Erika wrapped his hands around Charles' waist, lifted him up as though he weighed nothing and allowed Charles to lower himself onto his cock. Charles wrapped his legs around Erika's waist, pulling him impossibly deeper inside. Erika gripped him tight as though afraid to let go, kissing and nuzzling his way up Charles' jawline to that sweet spot at his earlobe. Charles let out a sharp moan as Erika bit down hard and worked his earlobe in time with every thrust.

They came together, their collective orgasm sending a quake through both their bodies and the bed beneath them. Erika's spent cock was still inside of Charles as he brought him down into the now stained and sticky comforter for a deep, lingering kiss. Suddenly Charles winced as something sharp poked into his back. He pulled the unused condom out from under him, stared at it for a moment, and tossed it aside.

“I suppose now's a bad time to ask if you had any communicable diseases,” Charles remarked.

Erika laughed. “Don't worry, I'm clean.” Silence, then, “I suppose now's a bad time to ask if you're on the pill.”

“The—oh. _Oh_!” Charles smacked Erika lightly on the arm and they both burst into laughter. Erika rolled over, simultaneously sliding himself out of Charles and grinned. Charles snuggled closer, his head resting on Erika's chest, whose arms wrapped protectively around Charles.

“A bit slow on the uptake there, Charles – what were they teaching you in high school? And here I though you were supposed to be a teacher.”

“Professor,” Charles corrected. “And I think we've both found my knowledge of such matters to be more than sufficient.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” Erika pressed a kiss into Charles' hair.

“All the time. In fact I've been told my voice puts people to sleep.”

“I think it's sexy.”

“You think a pair of bloody khakis is sexy.”

“Only when you're wearing them.” He paused. “Or when I'm getting you out of them.”

“You are truly incorrigible.”

“And you love it.”

“I do,” Charles admitted. “I love the way you make me feel. It's like...I don't know. Like I've needed this for a long time.” He closed his eyes and before long had drifted off to sleep.

“Charles?” No response. Erika smiled and pulled the covers over them both. Then, softly, “...Me too.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, it's quite unnerving knowing someone is watching you sleep,” Charles whispered, a small smile playing across his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's curious, these are Erik's lovely Jimmy Choos: http://coolspotters.com/shoes/jimmy-choo-for-h-and-m-metallic-blue-leather-cuff-shoes   
> I saw these and that was it, I don't care if they're H&M exclusive, My Erika is pig-headed and has found a way to make them his/hers :D

The next morning, Charles woke to find Erika's eyes staring intently into his own. Every inch of their skin seemed to be touching, from their foreheads lightly pressed together to their toes, tangled within the sheets and each other.

“You know, it's quite unnerving knowing someone is watching you sleep,” Charles whispered, a small smile playing across his lips.

“I think the word you're looking for is 'endearing',” Erika replied, tone soft and teasing. He met Charles' lips in a lazy open-mouthed kiss before turning his face into Charles' neck and breathing deeply. “You smell like sex.”

“I wonder why,” Charles purred, letting out a quiet moan as Erika's teeth nipped playfully at his throat. Only a few feet away, the door handle rattled, as if someone was trying to get in.

“Since when do you lock your door, Charles?” Raven's voice was muffled through the thick oaken door.

“Since when do you care?” Charles shouted back. Then, to Erika, “Let me up.”

“Tell her to go away,” Erika mumbled into his throat

“That doesn't work with her. She's very persistent.”

“Then I'll tell her.”

“Don't you dare!” Charles crawled out of bed and tugged on a pair of track pants despite Erika's grumbling and slipped out the door, closing it swiftly behind him.

“Why the bloody hell are you grinning like--” Charles fell into silence when he saw the blue Jimmy Choos dangling from Raven's fingers.

“Care to explain?” More silence.“Charles Xavier, speechless for the first time,” Raven's eye's glinted mischievously. “Although I bet you weren't doing much talking last night, am I right?” Charles snatched for the shoes, but she held them just out of reach. “Oh, no you don't. I think you owe me some form of explanation after booting it out the door last night, _claiming_ to be back in half an hour and sneaking in at God knows what time with the owner of these shoes.”

“You just want me to admit your stupid little scheme worked.”

“Scheme? Why Charles, I have no idea what you're talking about!” she replied with mock sincerity. “It must have slipped my mind that I picked the car up while you were sleeping off your hangover.”

“I'm so sure.” He reached for the shoes again without success. Suddenly, the door opened behind him and Erika's head poked out.

“I believe those belong to me,” he said, gesturing to the shoes. Raven just gaped at him as the door opened wider, just barely hiding his naked form.

“Well, come on then.” He rolled his eyes. “I swear, this family is all wide eyes and flustered half sentences. I'm really not that scary. Although if you don't give those back I'll give you something to be afraid of.”

She wordlessly handed the shoes over and shot one last gleeful “I told you so” look at Charles before disappearing downstairs, taking the steps two at a time. Charles sighed as they retreated back inside. Erika glanced around the room. “Don't you own a clock?”

Charles nodded at the bedside table. “In the drawer. What?” he frowned at the look of amusement Erika gave him. “You try sleeping off a hangover with that infernal ticking next to your head all day.”

“You keep everything in this drawer, don't you?”

“Only the important things.”

“Oh yes – alarm clock, condoms, and lube. All the necessities in life.” He laughed, but the smile quickly disappeared when he saw the time. “Christ, it's already after one! He's going to eat me alive!”

“Who?”

“My boss, look, I need to go like, now. If I'm late again...shit!” He held up the miniskirt and halter from last night. “I can't go in to work like this!”

“Erika look, just calm down, I'm sure I've got some extra clothes around, and before you tell me my clothes are too small there's a closet full of my father's old clothes down the hall. Or hell, borrow something of Raven's if that's what you're looking for. She's only an inch or two shorter, right?”

Erika stared at Charles in disbelief. “You would...you would do that?”

“Of course. Here,” he tossed his powder blue dressing gown over. “Put this on and we'll find you some clothes. How much time do we have?”

“I have to be there for 2 o'clock.”

“Alright then, shower's three doors down on your left and I'll work on finding you some clothes. Then I can drive you to work if you like--”

“No!” He looked away from the visible hurt in Charles' eyes. “Look, I just...I can't, okay?”

“Okay,” Charles gave him a reassuring smile. “Scratch that. Shower, clothes, and I'll call you a cab.”

“...Thank you.” Erika disappeared out the door and Charles exhaled loudly, unaware that he had been holding his breath in the first place. He picked up the pile of clothes on the floor, separating khakis from spandex as he carefully folded Erika's clothing and placed them on the desk. Then, with one last baleful glance at the disaster zone formerly known as his bed, Charles snatched his cell phone from the floor and dialed. “Hello? Yes, I need a taxi for 1407 Greymalkin Lane.”

~~~

Fifteen minutes later, Erik appeared downstairs in a white button-down shirt the top two buttons left undone, and crisp black pants. He fidgeted nervously with the auburn wig in his hands, waiting for Charles to turn around.

“Um. Thanks.”

“Did the clothes fit alright? I'm sorry all I could find was the more formal...” Charles trailed off as he turned to face the figure before him.

Erik dropped his eyes to the floor. “Yeah. Look, I saw the taxi out front, so. I guess I should go before, you know, I get fired or something.”

Charles just stared. It was like he was looking at a completely different person. The Erika he knew was so vibrant and self-assured, and this man was...well, not.

“These are yours,” he blurted, shoving a paper bag into Erik's hands. “Your clothes and, um. Shoes. I see those ones fit nicely, I didn't know what size you were so I just grabbed whatever looked closest.” He was babbling now, a futile attempt to fill the awkward space between them with empty conversation.

“Yeah. Yeah, they're great. Thank you,” Erik repeated. He turned and headed for the front door.

Charles just stared after him. Was that it? “Wait!”

Erik spun around just in time to catch Charles as he threw his arms around his neck and kissed him, biting down on Erik's lower lip almost hard enough to draw blood. Erik was taken aback by this display and allowed himself to be pushed up against the door, Charles' fingers sliding up into his hair, his real hair this time, not the synthetic fibres of the wig still clutched in Erik's hand.

“The taxi is waiting,” Erik said when Charles pulled away.

“I don't care.”

“I have to--”

“I don't care,” he repeated. “I don't care if you're in spandex or trousers, or if you're more comfortable in a wig and heels than my father's business attire. In fact I kind of prefer the former.” Charles blushed slightly, and Erik had to smile. “You're you and you're mine no matter what clothes you wear.”

Erik pulled him into a tight embrace, burying his face in Charles' hair. “You are impossibly perfect,” he whispered.

“So are you,” Charles mumbled into his collarbone. “Not that you'd ever let me forget it. Now go before the cab leaves without you.” They reluctantly let go of each other, hands trailing apart as Erik slipped out the door. Charles stood for a moment, still smiling, before heading back upstairs for a shower. He had a seminar to teach at 3 and wasn't about to come stumbling in late for a second time.

His dressing gown was neatly folded and sitting on the bathroom counter. Charles brought it to his face and breathed deeply. He couldn't wear this, it smelled of sweat and sex and him, and it needed to be washed because it felt kind of sticky as well. One last inhale, and then Charles tossed it across the hall into the laundry hamper. The sheets would have to go too, later.

~~~

The one hour seminar was quick but uneventful. As usual, Alex jumped at the chance to ask questions and debate any and all issues brought up in the last lecture, and Charles was happy to indulge him. The boy had a natural talent for understanding genetics, and was often found hanging around Dr. McCoy during his experiments. McCoy wasn't quite as tolerant of Alex's enthusiasm because, as he quickly learned, it was coupled with a terrible clumsiness. Alex was well known for knocking over Petri dishes, spilling bacteria samples, and bumping into McCoy at the most inopportune moments. One day, McCoy had approached Charles, pushed Alex at him and said, “Your student torched my lab.” Charles had thought he was exaggerating until he saw the lab. It was amazing how much damage one clumsy undergrad could do with a Bunsen burner.

Sean Cassidy, Alex's best friend and roommate on campus, was the complete opposite in seminar. It seemed like he couldn't care less about the material, he barely took notes, and Charles counted himself lucky if he even showed up at all. But despite his terrible work ethic, his lab reports were almost flawless, and his test scores were the highest in the class.

Betsy Braddock and Lorna Dane always sat to Charles' left. They had bonded over their unusual hair colours (purple and green, respectively) back in first year had been best friends ever since. Lorna was also apparently dating Alex. Well, sometimes. Charles never really bothered to keep up with campus gossip. He was, however, fully aware of Kitty Pryde and Bobby Drake's relationship, as Kitty spent most of the class practically sitting in his lap. Charles had given up on trying to separate them, they might as well have just been a single entity with the way they were attached to each other. Not that Charles could really judge, considering how he had spent the last two nights. He shook his head. Now was not the time to be thinking about that.

He concluded the seminar twenty minutes early, and his students eagerly filed out of the classroom. It was Friday after all, and who really wanted to be stuck at school for a class based on yesterday's half-assed lecture? Charles gathered his things and headed to his office. He would get those papers graded if it killed him, and then maybe go drown the inevitable migraine in alcohol over at Zelda's. Or was it too soon to go back there? Would he look desperate if he showed up tonight? It would be the third night in a row, after all, and if Erika wasn't there, that bartender would be sure to tell him about how clingy, desperate Charles had showed up looking for him. No, he decided, he would just go grade his papers and then go home and...and what? Face an interrogation session with Raven? He sighed, and then paused as he heard the sound of arguing from a half-open door down the hall. Charles approached cautiously, feeling guilty for eavesdropping but curious just the same.

“That's the fourth time this month, Lehnsherr!” Shaw's voice echoed out into the hallway. “I don't see any reason why I shouldn't have just fired you when you came in late today!”

“I told you I had a family emergency.” The second voice was all too familiar. _I knew it!_ Charles thought.

“And I told you there's only so many times you can use that excuse. You don't even have any family.”

“My mother--”

“Was deported to Germany six years ago,” Shaw interrupted. “And if you don't start showing up on time and doing what I tell you, you'll be going next. Your visa's about to expire, is it not? And without proof of employment, you'll be back on the other side of the ocean before you can say _gesundheit_. Or whatever it is you Germans say when you're angry.”

“I get it, Shaw. I'll be here on time from now on.”

“You better be. This is your last chance.” There were sounds of movement and Charles tried to duck into his own office, but ended up crashing right into Erik, who glared angrily at him.

“Funny how we keep running into each other like this,” Charles quipped weakly.

“How much did you hear?”

“About you being deported? Can he even do that?” the words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them.

“Look, just stay out of it, alright? This isn't your problem.”

“But--”

“Just drop it! He fires me, I have no excuse to be here, and no money to renew my visa anyway.” He slumped against the wall.

“It seems to me that if Shaw wanted to fire you, he would have done so already. He's just power-tripping, and you're letting him walk all over you.”

“Thanks so much for the self-esteem boost.” Erik straightened and brushed past Charles toward the main hall. “Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go home and pack.”

“Erik!” Charles called, but he had already disappeared around the corner. Charles trudged on to his office, sat down at the desk, and stared at the stack of papers in his bag before slamming it closed and walking right back out again. There was no way he was getting any work done tonight. He had to see Erik (Erika, whatever), and there was only one place that was going to happen.

~~~

The lineup outside Zelda's had extended almost around the block by the time Charles got there. He started towards the end of it, but Logan caught him by the arm and shooed him inside despite the loud protests coming from behind them.

“What makes this dork so special, huh?” a voice called out. I'm been standing here for an hour!”

“Shut it, Drake. Quit getting yerself thrown out on days that end in Y and maybe you'll get in a little faster.”

Charles ignored them and entered the club, which was already crowded to the point that perfect strangers were pressed up against each other, dancing, drinking, and God knew what else. Three days ago, Charles would have been repulsed by this thought, but now he wanted to lose himself in it and forget everything except the soft crush of bodies against him. He was here for a reason, he reminded himself, and, he realized, glancing around, that reason seemed to be conspicuously absent tonight. Erika was very good at sneaking up on him though; maybe if he just sat at the bar for awhile he would find him. And then what? He could already see where the conversation would go. _I don't need your charity, Charles!_

Charles jumped as a pair of arms slid around his waist from behind, then relaxed into the embrace as Erika's lips grazed his neck.

“I thought you were packing,” Charles murmured. Erika stiffened, but didn't say anything. “Oh what, you're not going to say it? 'I don't want to talk about that, let's just worry about the here and now because I bottle up all my feelings and pretend they don't exist.' Can we just skip all the melodrama and move on to the part where kiss and make out, I mean make up, because I really don't want to fight with you right now.”

Erika let go of him as they faced each other. “You're really not going to push this?”

“Not unless you want me to. I know how you work. Daytime is for real life drama, night is for binge drinking and sex. But eventually we're going to figure this out because if you had to leave I don't think I could take it.”

“Fair enough.” Erika slid onto Charles' lap and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. “But just to clarify...”

Charles braced himself for the worst. “Yes?”

“You don't really mean make up, do you? Because that first option sounded like a lot more fun.”

“Do you ever listen to a word I say?”

“Always. And if you know me so well now, why are you so surprised when I not so discretely shift to more...pleasurable topics of conversation?”

“Are you two going to order something, or were you just planning on sitting there consumed with lust for the rest of the night?” Jubilee leaned across the counter, eyes hidden behind a pair of oversized hot pink aviators.

“Shots. And lots of them.” Erika didn't take his eyes off Charles. “Maybe just make it vodka tonight.”

Jubilee complied, and much to Erika's surprise, Charles matched him shot for shot. “Where did my four-shot wonder go?”

Charles just smiled and downed the next shot. “I told you I could drink enough for the both of us. As long as it's not tequila,” he added.

“Oh my god!”

“I know, it's like you said, I'm just full of--”

“Not you, the song! I love this one!” He jumped off of Charles' lap and pulled him towards the dance floor.

“Oh, no, I don't dance.”

“Everyone dances, Charles. Even nerdy genetics professors with no social life.”

“Hey!”

Erika just laughed and weaved effortlessly through the crowded room, dragging an unwilling Charles behind him. He swayed to the music, taking Charles by his belt loops and bringing him closer. “Just move your hips like this.” Charles glanced around anxiously, but began to move slowly with Erika's touch. “Don't look at them, look at me.” Charles did as he was told, and with Erika's encouragement he closed his eyes and danced, losing himself in the music entirely. He didn't even notice when Erika's hands left his hips. As the song ended, he opened his eyes and froze in place, all too aware of his loss of self-control and the overwhelming heat from a combination of the surrounding bodies and vodka. Erika watched him with a mixture of adoration and confusion as he stumbled back through the crowd. It was all too loud, too bright, too suffocating, and he needed to get out.

Somehow he ended up at the bar, where Jubilee immediately produced another shot. He reached for it but was stopped by Erika's hand covering his own.

“I think you've had enough,” he said, pushing the glass out of reach with his free hand. “Let's get some air, shall we?”

Charles nodded and Erika ushered him out a side door and onto the street. “Are you alright? You went from ridiculously happy to completely freaked out in two seconds flat.”

“It's too hot in there. Too many people. I think I did.”

“Did what?” Erika asked carefully.

“Drink. Too much. You know I wasn't going to come tonight. But. I knew you would be here. I knew because Shaw. Earlier.”

“You said we wouldn't talk about that.”

“I say a lot of things, and you ignore them like you ignore everything else.”

“Charles--”

“You think you can just drink and party away all your problems, but it doesn't work like that. You're just making everything worse.”

“ _I'm_ making it worse? I wouldn't have even been late today if I hadn't been with you. If you hadn't showed up last night like a lost fucking kitten I would have just gone home alone and been absolutely miserable but at least I wouldn't be losing my goddamn job! You think because we spend two nights together and you show up to one lecture hung over that you understand, but you don't. And sometimes I wonder if you ever will.”

Charles bit his lower lip and looked down at his feet. “I think I'd like to go home now,” he said quietly. He flagged down a nearby cab and opened the door.

“Look, I didn't mean it, it's just the booze talking, just don't leave like this.” But they both knew that wasn't true, and Charles was already in the cab and pulling away. Erika shivered, despite the warmth of the alcohol flowing through his veins, and started walking.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took him almost two hours to walk back to his apartment. Halfway there, Erika paused to take off his shoes, silently berating himself for deciding to wear the spiked heels tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Loads and loads of angst, but I promise it will have a happy ending! Also strong language (as I'm sure everyone's caught onto by now), even more angst, violence (self-inflicted) and have I mentioned the angst?
> 
> A note on the characters' ages: Erik/a is just turned 30, Charles is 26, young for a professor but we all know he's a genius, and Raven is 21.

It took him almost two hours to walk back to his apartment. Halfway there, Erika paused to take off his shoes, silently berating himself for deciding to wear the spiked heels tonight. Of course, he hadn't been expecting to walk home either, but the thought of going back in the bar to call for a ride made him sick. Or maybe that was the ten-plus shots of vodka churning in his stomach, which Charles had discreetly paid for with his Visa when he'd thought he wasn't looking. He viciously pushed those thoughts from his mind, clinging to the last scraps of a quickly dissipating drunken haze as he trudged up the narrow staircase to his apartment.

The door was already unlocked, which Erika would have found unsettling if said lock hadn't been broken for the past week and a half, and he pushed it open to reveal three identical young women, all blonde haired, blue-eyed and barely 18. Erika had mockingly called them the Stepford Cuckoos when he'd first moved in as a nod to their synchronicity in appearance and behaviour, not to mention their intense loyalty to his landlady.

“You're rent's-”

“-late again, or perhaps-”

“-still would be more accurate.” They spoke in fragments, finishing each others sentences without hesitation.

“Tell Emma I'll have it by the end of the month.”

“Miss Frost is-”

“-done waiting. You received your-”

“-final notice on Monday.” the third girl held up a crumpled piece of paper. “Pack up and-”

“-Get out. Tonight,” the first one finished.

“Get out of my way, Cuckoos,” Erika snarled, their laughter echoing in his ears as he shoved them out into the hallway and slammed the door.

“If you're still-”

“-here in the morning, Miss Frost is sending-”

“Azazel.” Their footsteps faded down the hall, and he waited until they were gone before sinking into a dilapidated futon that took up over half of the tiny apartment. Clothes were strewn about the floor, haphazardly marking a trail to (or more likely from) the cheap wooden dresser, a full length mirror propped up against its side. The only other furniture was an ugly beige floor lamp in the opposite corner, marking the entrance to the kitchenette. He'd sold the television and stand to pay the rent a few months ago, when Shaw had docked his pay for being late twice in one week. He picked up the land line sitting next to the futon, checking for a dial tone first because he was pretty sure that bill was long overdue as well, and dialled out.

“Frost speaking.” the crisp female voice was far too loud in his ears, and Erika felt nauseous again.

“Couldn't even face me yourself, Emma? You had to send your little Cuckoos to throw me out on my ass?”

“We've been through this too many times, Erik. I've given you much more than you deserved already, and now your time is up.”

“I told you I would have it by the end of the month, if you would just listen--”

“Listen? To you?” her tinkling laughter had a cruel edge to it. “No, you listen to me, you tranny slut. You go out every night, come stumbling back in at 3 am like a complete drunken idiot, sleep it off, and then go out and do it again. Between your comings and goings and those of the suits that show up to collect God knows how much debt you've been accumulating, the other tenants are ready to toss you out themselves. Now, unlike whoever you've been sucking off at the bar to fuel your perpetual inebriation, I don't accept sexual favours, or any other forms of currency that don't involve cold, hard cash. So unless you can have the last two months worth of rent in my mailbox right now, you better be out of that apartment before morning. Or else.”

“Where am I supposed to go?”

“It's so cute how you think I care.” There was a soft _click_ and the phone went dead. Erika sat motionless for a few minutes, the words _tranny slut_ turning over and over in his mind. His eyes flashed with rage and he tore the auburn wig from his head and threw it against the back wall. It fell to the floor unnoticed as he stripped off the pale blue mini-dress he'd worn to the bar that evening, balling it up and throwing it in the general direction of the wig. He stood before the mirror, chest heaving, and glared at his naked form.

“You're nothing but a lie,” he whispered at his reflection. “A pathetic, fucked up lie with nothing to show for yourself except for a pile of debt and self-loathing.” A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “Who the fuck do you think you are, Erik?” He slammed a fist into the mirror and drew it back bloody and full of glass as the shard fell to his feet. He clutched his hand to his chest, blood streaming down as he used the other one to call a cab and then shove tangled clothing, shoes, and various other belongings into an oversized backpack. The wig went back on, along with the dress, which stained on contact with the blood drying on his chest. The spiked heels went in the garbage, they hurt like hell and he never wanted to see them again. Instead, Erik fished through the bag Charles had given him, still sitting by the door where he'd left it for the blue Jimmy Choos and spent about almost ten minutes impatiently trying to strap them on with one hand. One last look around the tiny apartment and he was gone, leaving the door slightly ajar as he slung the backpack over his shoulder and headed downstairs.

~~~

“It's not as bad as it looks,” Erika insisted, trying and failing once again to bat Jubilee's hands away. They were sitting the back room of Zelda's, first aid kit sitting in Jubilee's lap as she carefully picked slivers of glass from his knuckles and dropped them into the shot glass on the adjacent table.

“What the fuck, Erika?” she demanded for the fifth time since he'd arrived, bedraggled and bloody, at the club. Having run through all possible variations of jokes concerning mirrors and bad luck, he fell into silence and watched her work. “No seriously,” she glanced up at him as she removed the final shard from in between his middle and index fingers. “What is going on?” Jubilee made quick work of the gauze, bathing his hand in antibacterial spray before wrapping it once, twice, three times and securing it with the white tape. At his continued silence, she punched him playfully on the arm and said, “you owe me big time.”

“I'll owe you even more if you do me another favour.”

“I'm not sure I want to know after this mess,” she gestured to his hand. “And what is that on your dress? More blood?”

“From my hand.”

“On the inside?”

He sighed. “Yeah Jubes, on the inside. Look, I kind of need a place to crash tonight and-”

“Jesus Christ, we've been through this how many times? I still live with my parents, who by the way think I work at the university pub, not some sketchy nightclub that caters to the sexually ambiguous. I literally can not, under any circumstances, put you up for the night, no matter how much I want to just take you home with me and snuggle all your sadness and self pity away.”

Erika blinked at her. “Um...thanks anyway?”

“Would you stop gaping at me like that? And why don't you just call your boyfriend and ask him? The way he waves that credit card around, he's got to be loaded. Or just really stupid, kinda like someone else I know.”

“He's not my boyfriend.”

“You could have fooled me.” She sat back in the chair, first aid kit rocking precariously in her lap. “you guys have been inseparable since the second your eyes met, and you're telling me he wouldn't put you up for the night?”

“We kind of...had a fight. Earlier.”

“Oh, for...” Jubilee slammed the first aid kit on the table, metal clanging against metal as she jumped to her feet and loomed over him. “Let me guess. He tried to get personal, and you said something idiotic to push him away, because that would mean actually letting someone in and not feeling so goddamn sorry for yourself all the time, and maybe sharing your problems instead of drowning them in tequila.” She held her cell phone out. “Call him.”

“I...I don't have his number.”

“Then call a cab and go knock on his goddamn door!” she yelled, exasperated. “I swear, if you didn't have like ten years up on me--”

“Eight,” Erika corrected quietly.

“Whatever! Just call already.”

Erika did as he was told, and gave the dispatch the address of both the club and Charles' home before handing the phone back. “Happy?”

“Ecstatic.” She flashed him a quick grin before pushing him out the door. “Now go outside and stay put til it gets here. And if you can't do that, I'll have Logan keep an eye on you.”

“I'm not a child,” Erika muttered under his breath, but he let Jubilee usher him outside just the same and waited obediently by the side of the road.

~~~

Charles spent the night wandering listlessly about the empty mansion, drifting from room to room in search of nothing in particular. He ran his fingers across various book spines in the library without actually reading them, stood and channel-surfed for awhile in the den, and then found himself in the kitchen making tea in multiples of three cups. He lined up all nine identical mugs on the counter and was meticulously ensuring that each one held the exact same amount of hot water, when a thought suddenly occurred to him. Where was Raven? He glanced up at the fridge and frowned at the fluorescent green sticky note awaiting him. _Staying at Irene's, back Monday after class – have fun while I'm gone! xoxo Raven_.

Great. She had assumed that he'd have company all weekend, but that obviously wasn't happening now. He turned back to face the counter and frowned. Where did all those mugs come from? He couldn't possibly drink that much tea. Besides, hadn't he been told coffee was the best solution for an incoming hangover? Who had...oh. Right. He quickly brushed the thought away and began pouring the cups of tea down the drain.

There were still two mugs left on the counter when the doorbell rang. The sound echoed through the empty house and Charles instinctively placed his hands over his ears.

“Too loud,” he complained, shuffling across the kitchen tiles and back to the other end of the house. He swung the door open to reveal a familiar figure standing in the archway.

“Hi.” Erika met his eyes and forced a small smile. Charles just stared blankly back. “Um. I don't really have anywhere else to go.”

“Just...don't.”

“I guess I deserve that. I'll just be going then.” Erika made to leave, but paused and turned back as he felt Charles' hand slip into his uninjured one.

“What. Are you doing.”

“You said--”

“I said,” Charles interrupted, a note of impatience creeping into his voice. “Don't touch that godforsaken doorbell. Ever again.”

“I'm sorry?”

“You better be. It's too loud.” he shivered. “Come inside. I'm cold.”

“Are you alright?” Erika followed him into the house, dropping the bag and backpack by the door.

“I made tea. I made...” Charles rubbed his eyes. “I made too much tea. It was such a waste, really. And speaking of wasted, I think I still might be. Just a little. Will you be staying the night, then?”

“If you'll have me.”

“I thought I already did.” He shook his head, trying to break free from the remains of the alcohol induced haze creeping across his mind. They retreated into the kitchen and Charles handed him one of the two remaining cups of tea before gulping down his own. “Lukewarm, but still tastes fine. Drink up.” Erika complied while Charles hoisted himself up onto the counter, sitting cross legged in front of him. The tea seemed to help significantly, and this time when Charles spoke he found it took only a little effort to string together full sentences.

“I'm glad you're here, you know. I thought maybe I pushed you too far, and then I didn't want to go to bed, and it was all kind of a blur after that.” He gestured to himself. “Living proof that alcohol and insomnia do not go hand in hand. And speaking of hands, what happened to yours?”

“I broke a mirror.”

“With your fist?”

Erika shrugged. “I didn't like what I saw. I was angry, and upset, and I'd just been evicted, and then I got blood all over my dress and Jubilee had to patch up my hand. There was a whole shot glass full of, well, more glass afterwards.” The words came tumbling out before he could stop them. It was just so easy to talk to Charles and he mentally berated himself for not doing this earlier because it felt so good to get it off his chest.

“You've been evicted? Where are all your belongings.”

“In a backpack by the door.”

“Alright then.”

Erika stared at him in disbelief. “That's it? No big lecture on how I should have come to you before, or how stupid I am for getting into so much debt that I can't even pay rent?”

“I told you before, I know you. I know what you need and that isn't it.” Charles leaned forward and their lips brushed together in a soft, chaste kiss. He leaned forward even further, nearly falling off the counter, but Erika caught him and pushed him back against the cupboards. His tongue hungrily delved into Charles' mouth, exploring tongue and teeth with feverish intensity and eliciting a muffled moan from the latter.

“Erika--”

“No,” he cut him off, pulling away just long enough to take off his wig and place it gently on the counter next to Charles. “Tonight it's just Erik.”

Charles reached up and ran his fingers though the other man's hair, smoothing the ends that were sticking up from sweat and confinement. “Erik, then.” He corrected himself with a smile,fingers tracing the bloodstain that had seeped through the dress. “Perhaps we should go upstairs and get you cleaned up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for all the pain and angst in this chapter, I promise the next one is going to be super fluffy to make up for it ^_^


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is going to be the last chapter for awhile. I do want to eventually come back to it, but there are other fanfiction projects that I want to pursue, like Count to Three and an AU that I'm currently working on.   
> For now, here's some super fluffy happily ever after to last you until I feel like working this again ^_^

The water was near scalding when Erik stepped into the bathtub, a claw-footed relic that was much bigger than it had seemed from the outside. They were in a different room than the one Erik had showered in the previous morning; this one was one floor above and nestled in the far hall of the east wing. It had been quite the trek to get over there, Charles leading Erik gently by the hand (it seemed to happening a lot lately, Erik thought, being led around) and insisting it would be worth it when they got there.

Erik had barely settled into the tub when Charles stripped down and climbed in as well, sitting on his knees in between Erik's legs. He leaned forward and, resting one hand on Erik's shoulder for support, began gently scrubbing at the dried blood on his chest. The fluffy white cloth soon became unrecognizable beneath the crusted brown that came away from his skin. Charles paused for a moment and glanced at Erik's injured hand, hanging over the side of the tub to keep dry.

“How much blood was there?” Charles asked quietly.

“Too much at the time. Don't worry about it, Jubilee fixed me up just fine.”

“Why didn't you come here first?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

Charles placed the cloth on a nearby shelf and swivelled round, his back to Erik, resting his head right where the bloodstain had been. “What, we had a bit of a drunken tiff and you thought I didn't want you anymore?”

 _Yes, that's exactly what I thought_. “No?”

“Try saying that with just a bit more conviction, and maybe I'll believe you.”

Erik couldn't help but smile as he wrapped his arms around Charles' abdomen. “Alright, I'm sorry I acted like an idiot and pushed you away for trying to help.”

“And?”

“And I'm sorry I didn't come straight here after being evicted and let you take care of me in my pathetically injured state. But in my defence, we've only known each other for three days, even though it feels like forever and I don't think I could ever want anyone else, but after running into you at the university like that I didn't think...I mean...” He trailed off as Charles shifted upwards pressing his face into the crook of Erik's neck.

“Then stop thinking. All that matters is the here and now, remember?” Charles whispered, hot breath caressing Erik's skin.

“Here and now,” he repeated softly, closing his eyes and tightening his grip around Charles.

~~~

Charles was jolted into consciousness by his own violent trembling, and for a few seconds the only sensation he was aware of was cold. He tried to move but found that he couldn't, immobilized not only by the freezing water but also by Erik's death grip around him.

“Erik,” he bit out through chattering teeth. No response. Charles nosed along his jawline before biting down hard just below his jugular.

“Ouch! What the hell!” His irritation quickly turned to concern as he realized where they were and that they were both freezing. “Out. Now!” he commanded, helping Charles out of the bath before hauling himself out and wrapping the former in a huge fluffy white towel. Charles stood, hunched over and shivering while Erik drained the water and found a towel for himself. He wrapped it around his waist, seemingly impervious to the cold, scooped Charles up in his arms and began the long trek back down the halls.

“H-how are you not c-c-c-”

“Cold?” he shrugged. “My hot water got cut off about three weeks ago.” Charles stared up at him in disbelief. “What? You wanted to know.” With a little help from Charles murmuring “turn here” and “down the stairs”, they reached the bedroom in record time. Erik tucked Charles securely under layers of sheets and and extra duvet from the closet, but his shivering did not subside until Erik crawled in as well and curled around him protectively.

“So much for me taking care of you,” Charles spoke softly. “Although that hand does look a little worse for wear.”

Erik glanced at his injured hand. The tape was wrinkled and limp, just barely holding the partially destroyed and soaking wet gauze in place. The inner layers, now made visible, were stained with various shades of pink and brown. He quickly tucked it under the duvet and snuggled closer.

“I'll let you play nurse in the morning, darling. Outfit and all,” he teased.

“Mmm. Tempting, but I'll leave the cross-dressing to you.”

Erik pouted and pressed a kiss to Charles' shoulder. “I think you'd look adorable.”

Charles rolled onto his back to face him and frowned. “Why are you pushing this?”

“I was just kidding around, Charles. Lighten up.” Erik pulled away and sat up. “I knew this was a stupid idea. I should just--”

“Just what? Leave and go sleep on a street corner because my sense of humor isn't up to par at four in the morning? I think not.” Charles tugged him back down into the sheets and rested his head on Erik's chest. “Maybe you're the one who needs to lighten up.”

They both lapsed into silence and Charles eventually drifted off with Erik wide awake and absent-mindedly stroking his hair long into the early morning.

~~~

Charles woke up alone, curled into a ball on the far side of the bed, with nothing but empty air against his bare back. He shivered and sat up, a thousand different assumptions running through his mind. Maybe he was in the shower, or maybe he'd left, or maybe he was just downstairs making coffee, or maybe he'd left, of course he'd left, they'd known each other what, three days and of course he'd left, why would he stay with someone he had just met three days ago? Such a short time, Charles reflected, for them to have met, drank, partied, fucked, slept, and eventually come to live together.

“Is that what we're doing now?” he wondered aloud. The empty room seemed to glare back at him, and Charles climbed out of bed, feelings of trepidation setting in. At this point he didn't even care what they were doing, as long as it didn't involve Erik leaving just yet.

He found Erik sitting at the kitchen table in a deep burgundy turtleneck and low slung black jeans, chewing on the end of a red Bic pen as he pored over the classifieds section of the morning paper. His hand was neatly re-bandaged in fresh gauze.

“You're still here!” Charles didn't bother to hide his immense relief as he came and sat down across from Erik, who jumped at the sound of Charles' voice.

“Not for long,” he replied without looking up. “I'm going apartment hunting this afternoon.”

Charles' face fell. “Already?”

“Well, yeah. I think I've imposed enough on you, don't you think?”

 _Don'tleavedon'tleavedon'tleave-- _“But you aren't imposing at all, really, this mansion's far too large for just Raven and myself. You're welcome to stay as long as you like.”__

“Think about it, Charles. We've known each other how long? Three days. That's it. You've learned more about me in three days than anyone else has, probably ever. Don't you think we need to slow down just a little?”

Charles bit his lip but said nothing, remembering his own similar sentiments only minutes ago.

Erik sighed. “Alright, lets try this another way. I'm a homeless, soon to be jobless, cross-dressing alcoholic, and on top of that there's this, whatever this thing is between us,” he gestured between the two of them. “And quite frankly I don't know how to handle it, because as Jubilee's told me countless times, I have the emotional intelligence of a sixteen year old boy.” He fiddled with his pen between two fingers as he spoke, still avoiding Charles' eyes.

“Why do you hate yourself so much?”

“I—what?” The pen dropped onto the newspaper and rolled to the floor, forgotten.

“You heard me. The only person you're trying to convince with this 'it's not you, it's me' pity party is you, so cut the bullshit and pay attention, because I'm only going to say this once.” Charles leaned across the table and pushed the newspapers out of the way, causing Erik to finally look up and face him. “You're going to stay here until we get this sorted out, and by 'this' I mean your job, your visa, and whatever we have going on between us. You're going to let me into your life and help you fix it whether you like it or not, and you're going to stop going about what a hopeless degenerate you are, because the self-loathing bit is getting very old very quickly. Are we clear?”

Erik nodded.

“Good.” He stood and, walking to the far side of the room, began rifling through the lower cupboards. He remembered making nine cups of tea last night, but where had he put the bloody kettle?

“Two doors over, upper shelf on the left,” Erik said, as though reading his mind. Charles raised an eyebrow, but followed the directions and immediately found what he was looking for.

“The mugs are all put away too, in case you were wondering,” Erik added as Charles moved over to the cupboard next to the refrigerator in search of just that.

“I didn't realize my new boyfriend doubled as a maid,” Charles joked, then started as he realized what he'd just said. “I-- I just mean-- I didn't—” but Erik was already across the room and trapping him against the edge of the counter, left hand on the small of Charles' back and pulling him closer.

“Say that again.”

“Hm?” Charles wasn't listening, his attention focused on the other man's lips hovering mere inches from his own. He leaned up for a kiss, bracing his palms against the counter for support, but Erik shifted just out of reach.

He frowned. "I take it back. my boyfriend isn't a maid, he's a cocktease."

“Are we a couple now, Charles?” Erik leaned close again, lips just grazing Charles' jawline.

“If I say yes will you kiss me?”

Erik smirked, but said nothing.

“You are infuriating,” Charles pouted, then decided to change tactics. He dropped his head shyly and glanced up through his eyelashes. “Erik,” he inquired, eyes wide and innocent, “would you like to go steady with me?”

Erik stared at him for a moment before breaking into a wide grin and replying, “Oh Charles, I thought you'd never ask!”

They both burst into laughter, which was cut off abruptly as Erik took Charles' chin between thumb and forefinger and brought him up for a kiss, nipping gently at his lower lip.

“Seriously though,” he said softly, “Can we...I mean, is this, um, are you--”

“Yes,” Charles interrupted, wrapping his arms around Erik's neck and pulling him in for another kiss. “Yes, yes, to all of the above, yes.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles adjusts to life with Erik/a and satisfies his own curiosities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, my fic is off its unofficial hiatus! And it's not abandoned! Surprise! 
> 
> Anyway, this is an extra extra long chapter as compared to the previous ones, which will hopefully make up for the fact that I haven't updated in months. Enjoy ^_^
> 
> Oh and Erik/a's dress is here: http://www.jades24.com/en/product/dresses/herve-leger-kleid_rede/index.html

The following week, Erik quit his job with Shaw and began working as a TA for Charles' genetics class. After all, Charles pointed out, he'd already been to all the classes, and did he really want to go back to Shaw on Monday? Erik reluctantly agreed, arguments about awkwardness trumped by a far better pay grade and feeling a little less guilty about having no rent to pay. He took over two of the five seminars; two more were held by a grad student by the name of Moira Mactaggart and the last was Charles', who insisted on teaching at least one on top of his lecture. 

Erik was very popular among the students for his ability to stimulate discussion with the barest of phrases, not to mention his tendency to bell curve their marks. He was popular for another reason as well, and Charles couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as Marie and Lorna eyed Erik voraciously before exiting the lecture hall. Erik just laughed and placed a kiss on Charles' scowling lips, along with whispered promises of late night activities that would shock their students. 

 

One particular evening in December, Charles was struck by the ease with which he had settled into the entire affair. He had just finished shaving when Erik got out of the shower and wrapped a white towel loosely around his hips before coming up behind Charles and resting his chin on his shoulder. 

“What do you think?” Erik asked, wrapping his arms around his lover's waist as he contemplated their blurred reflection. “Three-quarter or full feathered?” 

“The three quarters bring out the green in your eyes. Oh, and your red fishnets are shredding in a few places, but I found the black ones in my sock drawer undamaged.” 

Erik pressed a kiss to Charles' jawline. “Excellent. Care to pick the rest of my outfit while you're at it?” 

Charles bit his lip as he trailed Erik into the bedroom and watched him sift through various cosmetic products before locating the false lashes Charles has suggested and applying them with practiced precision. Then, noticing Charles' eyes on him in the mirror he fluttered his new eyelashes suggestively. 

“Excellent choice, don't you think?” 

Charles just nodded, eyes darting from Erik's mostly naked form to the vanity behind him, which they'd dragged down from Charles' mother's room a few weeks ago. Now it was almost unrecognizable beneath a lineup of wig heads and various makeup products strewn across its surface. The whole situation seemed so surreal to him and he laughed aloud, catching Erik off guard. 

“Are you all right?” 

“Never better,” he answered, surprising himself with his sincerity. 

Erik raised an eyebrow. “You seem a bit...off. We could stay in tonight if you want.” 

Charles crossed the room and kissed him, wrapping his arms around Erik's neck to pull him closer. “After I spent all that time searching for your bloody fishnets? I don't think so.” 

“If you insist.” He nuzzled Charles' neck before turning back to the mirror. “Do you know where I put that new—that's the one!” Erik took the red bodycon bandage dress from Charles, who had already fished it out of the closet and gently removed it from the hanger. “Will you be wanting something to wear as well?” 

“Maybe next time,” Charles replied automatically. The conversation was the same every week- Erik would try to get him in a dress, or a bit of eyeliner, or some sparkling nail polish, and Charles' answer was always the same. Maybe next time. 

“Are you sure? Because I just got this new mascara that I can't use now that I've attached these lashes, and it would be nice to try it on someone.” 

Charles stared at the bottle of what he recognized as the Dior Diorshow Blackout mascara that Erik had meticulously stalked online until it went on sale for $19.50, even though Charles had left all of his credit card information next to the computer and told Erik to shop to his heart's content. And now here he was, offering it up to Charles. 

“You'll have to do it for me.” 

Erik's face lit up and he gestured to the chair in front of the vanity. “Sit. And hold still.” 

Charles did as he was told and Erik knelt down in front of him, grinning from ear to ear. “Stop looking so smug. It's not a big deal.” 

“If you say so. Look up.” Erik took the mascara wand to Charles' bottom lashes and then the top, carefully separating each individual lash until he was completely satisfied. “I didn't buy the primer so this will have to—hmm.” he broke off and stared at Charles. 

“What?” 

Erik spun him to face the mirror. “You are gorgeous. I mean you were before, but look at those eyes!” 

Charles looked, and his reflection gazed back, clear blue eyes bright and sparkling under long, voluminous lashes. He raised two fingers to his cheek, just to make sure it was him in the mirror. 

“Don't touch!” Erik slapped his hand away, bringing Charles back to reality. “They're still drying!” 

“Sorry,” Charles mumbled, still staring at his reflection. “Is...is that me?”

“That depends. Do you like it?”

“I think so.” 

“Then yes, it's you.” Erik kissed him softly and stood, the action causing the towel to fall to the floor. Charles watched unabashedly as Erik snatched the red dress up from where he'd left it draped across the bed, and stepped into it, careful not to stretch the fabric, and slid it up and over his hips. It fit perfectly, just as Charles had imagined when he'd custom ordered the slim v-neck from Herve Leger last week. Erik had protested when he'd seen the price tag (while Charles silently cursed the website for not being more discrete), but Charles had just shrugged and said it wasn't like he was spending the money on anything else. 

“You spoil me, Charles,” Erik said, straightening the auburn wig that Charles hadn't even noticed him (her) put on. 

“Hmm?” Charles shifted out of the way to finish getting dressed. Black pants tonight, and a gray vest that Erik had convinced him to replace his sweater-vest with of the same color. First the vest, and now a bit of makeup, he thought absentmindedly. Were these just the first steps on the way to a miniskirt and stilettos? And would Charles even really mind, at that? One of the reasons he'd been attracted to Erika was the idea that a man in a dress could be that confident and self-assured, and who could blame Charles if he wanted a taste of it for himself? 

“Are you okay? Really?” Charles jumped at the sound of Erik's voice. 

“Of course, darling. Hurry up and find your shoes, the taxi should be outside by now.” 

~~~

Charles barely stirred when Erik slipped out of bed, quietly got dressed, and kissed him goodbye. 

“Mmph,” he mumbled into the pillow. “Where you going.” 

“Your seminar, of course. It's almost 2.” 

“I—what?” Charles threw the covers off and stumbled out of bed. “Why didn't you wake me?” 

“It's just exam review, Charles. I think I can handle it,” Erik smirked. “Besides, I figured you could use the rest after we nearly wore out your poor bed frame.” 

Charles grimaced as he remembered the loud crack that had sounded as Charles wrapped his legs around Erik's waist and forced him deeper inside, biting into Erik's shoulder and leaving a bruise that was no doubt still visible under that black turtleneck, marking him as his and only his...

“Stop that.” 

“What?” Charles blinked and tried not to stare at the lips that had explored every inch of his body, or the fingers that had trailed down his spine before finding their way inside him, or those hip bones that he wanted to taste again and again. 

“That look you get when you want me to fuck you into the mattress when you know one of us has to be the responsible one and go to class,” Erik replied. 

“Fine. Go,” Charles pouted. “But just know that I'll be here waiting. Naked and ready for you.” He slid back into the bed and reached down to touch himself. “Remembering last night...ahh...and thinking of doing it all over again when you get back.” He tilted his head back, eyes half closed as he stroked himself. “Mmm...Erik, oh--” 

He heard a growl and then Erik's lips were on him, pinning his wrists with one hand and grasping the base of Charles' cock with another. Charles made a show of struggling against his grip until Erik teased the head of his erection with his tongue and then sucked him hard and without warning, eliciting a low moan from Charles. Charles' hips bucked, and Erik let go of his wrists to cup his buttocks, meeting him thrust for thrust. 

“Erik—oh, oh don't stop, I'm going to—ahh!” 

Erik swallowed every last drop and licked his lips before leaning forward to kiss Charles. “My boss won't be happy if I'm late for work,” he murmured. 

“Somehow I don't think he'll mind too much,” Charles replied. He tilted his chin up so their noses were touching. “Now go before I drag you back into bed for the remainder of the afternoon.” 

“You are insatiable.” A quick peck on the cheek and Erik was gone, leaving Charles to alone in the bed. He sighed and rolled out of bed again, and nearly fell over the pile of clothes that he'd missed the first time around. He picked up the discarded red dress and hung it up carefully in the closet, making a mental note to send it to the dry cleaners that weekend. It wouldn't do to have that shrink in the wash. 

Erik's thigh high fishnets and garter were sitting on top of Charles' pajama pants. He picked them up, carefully unrolled each stocking, and without thinking began to slowly slip one over his left foot. _No one needs to know_ , he thought, _just a bit of fun, that's all_. He smoothed it up and over his calf, pausing only to work the elastic up and over his knee before moving on to the next one. They came up higher on his thigh than Erik's but then again he was a couple of inches shorter. He glanced around quickly, half expecting Erik to pop his head back in at any moment, but the bedroom door was still closed and Erik was probably already long gone. Charles let go of the breath he hadn't realized he was holding and hazarded a glance at the mirror in the vanity. 

_Just a pair of socks,_ he told himself. _Albeit a very sexy pair of socks that belong to my cross-dressing boyfriend._ He hitched up the right stocking and glanced around. Where had that garter belt gone? He found it sitting on the bed nearby and sat down to secure the stockings. It didn't take long; all that practice removing them in bed seemed to have paid off. He turned back to his reflection and leaned forward to rub at the excess mascara from last night. There were a couple of tiny clumps in his lower lashes, but other than that it had held up rather well through the bar, the bedroom, and everything in between. 

A sharp knock at the door made Charles jump and bang his knee off a half-open drawer. “Ouch! Christ!” 

“Charles?” Raven called through the door. “You awake?” 

“Yeah, just, don't, um, don't come in!” he fumbled for his pajama pants and quickly threw them on over the stockings. Where were his slippers? 

“As if I need to see you naked. Again.” 

He managed to find his slippers and yank them onto his feet on his way to the door, which he opened a crack and poked his head through. “No. Probably not. Um.” He shifted uncomfortably in the doorway, painfully aware of what he was hiding underneath his blue striped pajama bottoms. “This really isn't a good time.” 

Raven crossed her arms and rocked back on her heels. “I just came to tell you I'll be gone for the weekend.” 

“Irene's?” 

“Mostly.” 

Charles raised an eyebrow. “'Mostly'?”

Raven sighed. “There's a party at Angel's tonight to celebrate the end of the term. I'll be sleeping there and then back to Irene's for the weekend to study for exams. Anything else, Mom?” 

“I was just wondering.” Charles shrugged. “It's not as if I'm in any place to judge. Erik's covering my seminar as we speak.” 

“He's not here? Why are you hiding behind the door then?” 

“Because I need to get dressed. And um. Make the bed.” _And get the hell out of these stockings before Erik gets back,_ he added silently. 

Raven rolled her eyes. “Whatever. See you Monday. Or whenever I get back.” She turned and retreated down the hall and Charles closed the door with a sigh of relief. She hadn't noticed. Of course she hadn't noticed. He stripped off his pants and ran the pads of his fingers over the fishnets, savoring the texture as he had when they were on Erik's legs instead of his own. Maybe he'd leave them on just a little while longer. An hour or two around the house under a pair of khakis, and then he'd have them off and back in their place before dinner. After all, what was the harm in a bit of self indulgence once in a while? 

~~~

Erik ended the seminar early, partially because it was the last day of class and a Friday, but mostly because the taste of Charles was still on his tongue and he wanted more. He skimmed through the review material and patiently answered every question from the 6 students that had actually bothered to show up before dismissing them and gesturing vaguely to his and Charles' contact information on the white board. 

“So, can I email you with any questions?” Lorna asked. She made a show of grazing Erik's arm as she collected her books, earning a glare from Alex. 

“Of course.” Erik stood and met her eyes briefly. “Although you'd be better off asking Professor Xavier first.” 

“You don't give yourself enough credit, Mr. Lehnsherr. See you at the exam!” She breezed out of the room, “accidentally” bumping his arm again as Alex trailed after her. 

Erik just rolled his eyes and collected his coat before heading out as well, images of Charles in various compromising positions swirling in his head. 

“Mr. Lehnsherr,” an all too familiar voice called behind him. 

Erik grimaced and turned to face the last man on Earth he wanted to see. “Hello, Dr. Shaw.” 

“I wasn't expecting to see you here today,” Shaw said, his tone soft but accusing. “Where, may I ask, is Professor Xavier?” 

“He's come down with a flu bug. I'm filling in.” Erik replied. “Now if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.” _Like far, far away from you._

“Don't let me keep you then. Enjoy your holiday, Mr. Lehnsherr.” he gave a slight nod and retreated down the hall. 

Erik shivered, more than a little unsettled by Shaw's appearance. He practically ran out to the parking lot, glancing behind him every few seconds to ensure that he wasn't being followed. There was something about Shaw that made his skin crawl, and he felt as though he could never put enough distance between them. 

Erik didn't relax when he pulled into the driveway, or even when he entered the house and the door clicked shut behind him, echoing loudly in the empty foyer. He kicked off his shoes and padded barefoot into the next room, where Charles was curled up on the leather sofa with a stack of term papers and a half empty cup of earl grey. He didn't look up as Erik entered, still immersed in whatever report he was reading and absentmindedly chewing on the end of his pen. 

“I told you I would help with those.” 

Charles glanced up in surprise. “You're early!” He hastily tucked his feet underneath him and looked at his watch. “It's not even half past 4.” 

Erik raised an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?” 

“No, no, of course not!” Charles shifted the stack of reports to the coffee table and gestured to the now empty space next to him. “Come here.” 

Erik sighed and flopped down on the couch, dangling his legs over the armrest as he rested his head on Charles' lap. “I had a run-in with Shaw.” 

Charles inhaled sharply. “What did he want?” 

“He didn't say anything, really. There's just something about him that makes my skin crawl.” Erik reached back to push Charles' legs apart and lie between, but Charles flinched and tucked his feet further into the back of the couch.

“What are you doing?” he asked anxiously. 

“Using my boyfriend as a pillow, obviously.” Erik frowned. “Something wrong?” 

“I just...um...I should really finish grading that paper.” 

“It's Friday, darling. There's no hurry. Now shift so I don't have to feel your knee in my back.” 

“No!” Charles bit his lip. “I mean, um, what I meant to say was--” 

“What you meant to say was you're clearly busy and don't want me in your face,” Erik said. He rose to his feet and Charles followed, latching onto Erik's arm when he moved to leave. 

“It's not that at all. Please don't be angry with me.” 

Erik glared at him. “Really? Because it seemed like I was getting shafted in favor of a pile of genetics homework.” 

Charles nervously tugged on the cuffs of his pants, and as Erik glanced down he caught a glimpse of some very un-socklike material. 

“Charles,” he asked, keeping his voice nonchalant. “What are you wearing on your feet?” 

“Nothing.” He looked down at the floor, refusing to meet Erik's eyes. 

“Hmm.” Erik slid his bare toes over Charles' stockinged ones. “That's doesn't feel like nothing to me.” 

Charles blushed furiously. “You weren't supposed to know. I was going to have them off before you got home.” 

Erik's face softened, suddenly understanding. “So that's what this is about.” 

Charles nodded, still staring at the floor even as Erik slipped two fingers into the waistband of his khakis and revealed the garter's black lace detail. 

“I get it,” he murmured. “You're ashamed because it's not masculine, not conventional, and certainly not you, and you're afraid because one day it might be. And you're right. Maybe eventually we'll be sitting side by side in front of the mirror sharing cosmetics and arguing over who's wearing which wig that night. Or maybe you'll just borrow my clothes when you think no one's looking, hang around the house for an hour and then put them back as if nothing ever happened. Or hey, maybe this is a one time thing and you won't ever touch a pair of stockings again. Unless they're on me, of course,” he added, the corners of his mouth quirking up into a smile. 

“Is..is that what you want?” Charles asked quietly. “The part about sharing things, I mean.” 

Erik sighed. “I think you're missing the point here. Look at me.”

Charles reluctantly obeyed, cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. 

''Do you remember what you said to me, the first time you saw me like this instead of as Erika?” 

Another nod. “How could I forget.” 

“Then tell me again.” 

“I said, you're you and you're mine no matter what clothes you wear.” 

Erik slid his hands around Charles' waist and closed the small gap between them. “Exactly. It's your choice, not mine. I give you the option because you want it, but you're afraid to ask, and I know what that's like. And you should know by now that I'll love you no matter what you choose.” Erik paused and cocked his head sideways. “Why are you looking at me like—mm.” 

Charles cut him off abruptly, pouring everything he had into a kiss that knocked Erik off-balance and sent him stumbling backwards over the sofa's armrest. They landed in a tangled heap on the couch, chests heaving as Charles broke the kiss long enough for both of them to catch their breath. 

“Do you really mean it?” he asked. 

“I...what?” Erik blinked in confusion. “I just...I...oh. That.” 

“Well?” Charles gazed at him expectantly. 

“Yes. Yes, of course I mean it. I love you, Charles. I love you so much it makes my heart hurt. Actually, that might just be the way that you're leaning on me right now. What have you been eating lately? Ouch!” he exclaimed as Charles elbowed his ribs.

“I love you, too. Even if you are a pain in the arse.” 

“I'm the pain? I'm not the one who--” 

Charles kissed him again, crushing their lips together hard enough to bruise. “Enough talk. Here and now, remember?” He slid his hands up inside Erik's turtleneck and tugged it up and over his head, letting it fall to the floor along with Charles' favorite navy blue cardigan. Erik tugged down the arm of Charles' light blue button down to bite down hard on his shoulder, eliciting a small gasp from Charles as he undid the rest of the buttons. 

Erik's jeans were kicked unceremoniously somewhere over the armrest, followed by Charles' khakis, but when Charles moved to undo the garter's clasps, Erik stayed his hands, a wicked grin spreading across his face. 

“Leave them.” 

“But I--” 

“Leave them,” he repeated. “Please.” 

Charles nodded and leaned over Erik to reach under the cushion, their erections rubbing almost painfully against each other. He pulled back slowly, nuzzling Erik's neck as he retrieved the jar of lube he'd secreted there. 

“How many of those do you have?” 

“One for every room,” Charles answered, as if it was obvious. “Well. All the ones we use.” 

“How convenient.” 

Charles reached down to thumb Erik's hipbones as he spoke. “I'm sorry, did you want to go all the way upstairs and down the hall?” 

“Just give it here.” Erik snatched the jar from him impatiently and slicked up his fingers before sliding first one, and then another into Charles' hole. Charles moaned as Erik worked his fingers in deeper before inserting a third and curling them inside him. 

“Jesus—Erik--” Charles rocked back on Erik's fingers, stroking him in time with his own movements. Erik took that as as cue to push deeper, simultaneously pushing Charles back onto the couch until Charles' stockinged calves rested against Erik's shoulders. He withdrew his fingers slowly, ignoring Charles' protests, and ran his hands along Charles' thighs. 

“You're beautiful like this.” Erik brushed his cheek against Charles' left ankle and pressed a kiss to the bone. “Beautiful and all mine.” He pressed his cock between Charles' legs, teasing against his entrance. 

“Please, Erik,” the plea came out as a breathless moan, bringing a smile to Erik's face. 

“Please, what?” 

“Inside...hnn...me. Now.” 

“I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that,” Erik smirked, holding Charles down firmly even as he strained against him. 

“ErikpleasefuckmesohardIcan'twalktomorrow,” the words came out in a rush, and no sooner had he gotten them out than Erik was buried inside him, stretching the ring of muscle to its limits. 

“Only because you asked so nicely.” He withdrew and pushed forward again, one hand on Charles' stomach to steady himself. 

“Bastard,” Charles gritted out. 

“I love you too, sweet.” 

And then all attempts at conversation dissipated as Erik thrust into him again and again, bringing Charles' knees to his chest as he leaned close to kiss him. 

Erik came moaning into Charles' mouth, and barely hesitated before reaching down to palm Charles' erection. Charles arched into his touch, his almost immediate orgasm leaving him trembling as he gripped his lover close. They remained unmoving on the couch for a moment, until Erik withdrew from Charles and gently placed his stockinged legs down on either side of him. 

“Hnnn...no more moving.” Charles closed his eyes and stretched languidly underneath him. 

Erik snatched his turtleneck up off the floor and made quick work of the mess on Charles' stomach and thighs before crumpling it up and tossing it away again. Charles just smiled and beckoned for him to lie down again. 

“Don't you have term papers to grade?” 

“Oh, shut it. Come here.” 

Erik did as he was told, resting his cheek just above Charles' heart. “I don't suppose I can convince you to keep these stockings on for the club tonight?” he asked, already anticipating the other's response. 

“Maybe next time.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been far too long and if anyone's still out there reading this, welcome back! I just spent 4 days at sick at home (flu for my mom, probable chlorine gas poisoning for me) doing nothing but pounding out almost 5000 words of Cherik because I don't know about you, but when I feel terrible, I find comfort in my otp. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone that's still reading, and special thanks to clearsky66 for making me remember how much I missed writing this fic!

“Yes, I’ll have everything filled out and faxed to you tonight. You have the number for me?” Charles glanced up as the door to the study opened and Erik poked his head in.

“You busy?” 

“One second, love.” He scribbled the fax number onto a post-it note as he spoke. “Perfect. No, thank you.” He hung up the phone and stuck the post-it to the top of a pile of papers on his desk. “Have you seen Raven around?” 

Erik raised an eyebrow. “Not recently. What are you up to?” 

“Nothing,” Charles replied lightly. He stashed the stack of paper in the top left desk drawer as Erik came over to sit on the corner of the desk. 

“Keeping secrets now, are we?” Erik eyed him curiously. 

Charles just smiled as he covered Erik's hand with his own. “It's the holiday season. I'm entitled to a secret or two.” At Erik’s confused expression, Charles added, “It’s our first Christmas, or Hanukkah, or both, together. Or have you forgotten already?” 

Erik shrugged. “I haven’t celebrated anything since I moved to New York, with the exception of Halloween. Without my family, I didn’t see the point.” 

“Well, now you have a reason to get festive.” Charles slid his arms around Erik’s waist and Erik followed suit, sliding gently into Charles’ lap and draping his long legs over the arm of the chair. “Hanukkah’s in a week, and then Raven always throws a huge theme party here the weekend before Christmas.”

“Mm. Zelda’s does one too,” Erik mused. “It’s always full of couples sucking face under the mistletoe after too many candy cane martinis.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is when you’re single.” 

Charles nosed against Erik’s jaw before placing a kiss at the corner of his mouth. “You’re not single this year, darling.” 

Erik turned his head to meet Charles’ lips, entwining their fingers together in his lap. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.” He nipped playfully at Charles’ lower lip and grinned. 

Charles pouted, feigning hurt. “And I thought you enjoyed the time we spend together.” 

“Oh, I love spending time with you. In bed, on the couch, in the shower, on the kitchen counter…” 

“Under the glitter-encrusted mistletoe?” Charles cut in hopefully. 

Erik laughed. “Says the man who wouldn’t have set foot on a dance floor two months ago. And you know we have to go,” he continued. “It’s the last party Zelda’s will ever have, now that they’re closing down.” 

“I guess we’ll have to do it big then,” Charles replied. “Make it a night to remember.” 

“Just like all of the nights we’ve had there,” Erik agreed. “God, this is so depressing. It’s like seeing a foreclosure sign in front of your family home.”

“It’s like the end of an era, isn’t it?” 

“Mm. Hey, you know what would make me feel just a little bit better about this whole ordeal?”

“What’s that?”

“If you let me dress you for the party.”

Charles winced. “You know I would do anything for you, Erik, but…” 

Erik sighed and released Charles’ hands to twist around and brace himself against the desk before shifting backwards off of Charles’ lap. He slid back down in one smooth motion, slipping his legs underneath the arms of the chair to straddle his boyfriend. 

“You always assume the worst,” he said, draping his arms over Charles’ shoulders. “I’m not going to force you into full drag, alright? I know what your comfort zone is, and it’s not as painfully miniscule as you think.” 

Charles just smiled and shook his head. “Perhaps, but—” he broke off suddenly, his breath catching as Erik rolled his hips just so and created a delicious friction between them. 

“That’s cheating,” Charles said, his voice rough with lust. “You can’t just—ah—alright I trust you just---oh don’t stop—”

“That’s what I thought.” Erik’s fingers tangled into the back of Charles’ hair. “Shall we add ‘on the office chair’ to our list?” 

Charles shifted under Erik’s weight, eliciting a soft gasp from his boyfriend. “I think not. I can’t feel my legs.” 

“But you can feel other things.” 

“Erik!” 

“Okay, just a second.” Erik braced himself against the desk again and slid backwards, only to pause with his knees lodged under the chair arms. “I think I’m stuck.” 

Charles raised an eyebrow, then flashed a mischievous grin and reached down to grab Erik’s calf. With a quick push he dislodged Erik’s knee, catching him off balance and landing him on his back on the desk. 

“Hey!” Erik yanked his other foot out and attempted to sit up, but Charles was already on him and straddling Erik’s lap. 

“Much better,” Charles murmured. He slipped both hands under Erik’s cranberry knit sweater to trace his hipbones, causing Erik to arch only slightly beneath him. 

“I love it when you take control, darling,” Erik reached up and dragged Charles down by his lapels for a long, lingering kiss. “But,” he murmured into Charles’ ear, “I’m not much for submission.”

“Don’t I know it,” Oblivious to the footsteps echoing outside the open door, Charles smirked and took Erik’s wrists and pinned them above his head. 

“Charles I finally got the fax machine to—Jesus Christ, are you kidding me?” Raven stood in the doorway, shielding her eyes from the scene before her. “Just once, I would like to walk into a room without finding you two tangled up in each other.”

“Not going to happen,” Erik answered. Then, to Charles, “You might want to let me up before we scar her for life. Again.” 

Charles mock-pouted and sat up before gracefully sliding off of Erik’s lap. “So you finally what?” 

Raven dropped her hand and rested it on her hip. “I fixed the fax machine while you were busy getting horizontal.” 

Charles blushed a deep shade of pink. “Yes. Well. Let me get the forms and then you can show me how to work that ancient piece of junk.” 

“’Kay,” Raven turned and disappeared back down the hallway. 

“Forms?” Erik had sat up and was now eyeing the drawer that Charles had used earlier. “What are you up to?” 

“Oh, you know, just a few things for the university. The department printer’s broken so they asked me to fax everything instead.” 

“You’re a terrible liar.” 

Charles shrugged and went over to the drawer. From it he retrieved 4 pages, all of which had the university letterhead at the top. 

“See? New semester, new paperwork.” He grabbed a few more papers and the post-it from his earlier phone call and smiled. “I’ll just be a few minutes, and then you can have me all to yourself.” He slipped out the door before Erik could respond, and before he had to make another excuse to cover up his Christmas plans. 

~

“Charles it’s almost sundown, what’s keeping you?” Erik called up the stairs. “You can’t be late for the last menorah lighting!” 

“I’ll be down in a minute!” came the distant reply. 

“You said that 15 minutes ago!” Erik dropped his hand from the banister and went back to the living room, where his mother’s menorah waited on the windowsill. Charles had been very evasive lately, and although Erik had tried to be patient, he was innately uncomfortable with secrets of any kind. Like when his mother had waited until the last possible moment to tell him her Visa had expired, or when Jubilee had deliberately skirted around the topic of Zelda’s foreclosure while he was at the bar. Erik trusted Charles, more than he’d ever let himself trust anyone else, but that wasn’t enough to quiet his suspicions that something terrible was just around the corner. 

“Don’t start without me, now.” 

“Well maybe if you didn’t take so—” Erik stopped short when he caught sight of Charles standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“Do you like it?” Charles gestured down to the mini cocktail dress he was wearing, fingers grazing the black lace overlay over deep blue fabric. The bangs of his black bob wig seemed to touch the tips of his long eyelashes, fanned out with the same Diorshow mascara that Erik had used on him only last week. 

Erik just stared as Charles did a quick, shy 360 degree turn. “I borrowed your shoes, I hope you don’t mind. I’m a size smaller, but that’s what adjustable straps are for.” 

Erik’s gaze travelled down to Charles’ feet, where a familiar pair of blue Jimmy Choos had made their home, then back up to the dress, and finally to Charles’ hopeful expression. 

“Um. Would you say something? Anything?” Charles crossed his arms self consciously over his chest. “It was hard enough for me to do this, let alone walk down the stairs in these heels—oh.” 

Erik crossed the distance between them in two strides and hugged Charles so tightly that for a moment Charles thought he’d crack a rib. 

“You are so damn beautiful,” Erik whispered hoarsely. “I’m actually speechless.”

“I suppose there’s a first time for everything.” 

Erik pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Charles’ mouth, careful not to smudge his matte red lipstick. 

“You don’t have to act so cautious, darling,” Charles murmured, as though reading Erik’s thoughts. “I used that Jefree Star lipstick in Redrum that you love so much. Also, sorry for borrowing your entire cosmetics drawer…” Charles trailed off as Erik kissed him properly this time, deep and needing, and for a brief moment Charles forgot all about the lipstick and the clothing and there was only the two of them, standing there wrapped in each others’ arms as if the world no longer existed around them.

After they had finally broken apart long enough to light the menorah for the final night, taking the full half hour to sit and watch the flame burn down together in warm, comfortable silence, Charles stood and slipped back out of the room with a mischievous “be right back”. 

He returned with a long black garment bag, the hanger hooked over his index finger. “I couldn’t get myself something pretty and not do the same for you.” Charles unzipped the garment bag, revealing a pure white long-sleeve bodycon dress with white mesh cutouts along the sides and sleeves, as well as a v-shaped cutout at the chest. “It’ll go with those shoes you just bought that look like Christina Aguilera’s from Burlesque.” 

Erik stepped forward and fingered the fabric of the dress reverently. “You spoil me, Charles.” 

“You know you love it,” Charles replied. “Here, go and change.” 

Erik grinned, took the garment bag by the hanger and practically ran past Charles, taking the stairs two at a time. “I’ll just be a minute!” 

Charles just smiled and sat back down on the sofa, knowing full well what “just a minute” meant in Erik time. 

~

As usual, and much to the annoyance of everyone outside of Zelda’s, Erik and Charles skipped the lineup and went straight inside. Charles remained glued to Erik’s side, self-consciously fingering the lace of his dress as they made their way to the bar. 

“Are you sure I look alright?” he asked for the fourth time. “I feel like people are staring.” 

Erik squeezed his hip affectionately. “If they are, it’s because you are absolutely stunning and they’re jealous that you’re mine.” He sidled up to his usual place at the bar, and before he could gesture for their usual Jubilee was in front of him, slamming two martinis on the counter and causing the contents to splash dangerously against the edges of the glass. 

“In a mood tonight, are we?” Erik frowned and handed Charles his drink. 

Jubilee just glared at him and nodded at Charles, who was now facing the rest of the club. “I never figured you for unfaithful, Erika.” 

Erik stared at her for a moment, completely baffled by her comment, and then burst out laughing. Now it was Jubilee who appeared confused. “What’s so funny?” 

Charles turned back to Erik, eyebrows raised. “Are you all right, darling?” 

Jubilee pushed her pink aviators up into a nest of short, spiked jet black hair and appraised Charles, her lips forming a perfect ‘o’ of surprise. 

“Oh, my God,” she breathed. “Hot _damn_ , Charles!” 

Charles blushed crimson and muttered an embarrassed “thank you” while Erik managed to stop laughing. 

“Clearly we’ve all been missing out on your dragster alter ego because you are seriously gorgeous!” 

“So gorgeous, in fact, that she thought I was cheating on you,” Erik interrupted, grinning from ear to ear. 

“It’s really not a big…wait, what?” Charles forgot about his embarrassment for a second and caught up with the conversation.

Jubilee held up her hands in mock surrender. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect to see you transformed into some beautiful raven-haired mystery lady. Here,” Jubilee said, before Charles could react. She grabbed two shot glasses and lined them up next to Erik’s martini glass. “Polar Bears on me.”

“You know how I feel about seasonal drinks.” Erik picked up his glass and downed the martini, which was really straight vodka in a nicer glass. Just the way he liked it. 

“Yeah, they’re overdone and tacky. Unless they taste like chocolate mint.” 

“Exactly.” 

Charles just shook his head, smiling behind his glass. He couldn’t believe that Jubilee hadn’t even recognized him, let alone said he was beautiful. Maybe he could really pull this off. 

“Charles. Pay attention, darling.” 

Charles blinked and traded his mostly finished martini (still just vodka in a stemmed glass) for the shot glass sitting on the counter. He locked eyes with Erik, mentally counted to three, and downed the shot, the smooth liqueur sliding easily down the back of his throat. Erik took the empty glass from Charles and used his free hand to cup the back of Charles’ neck and pull him into a mint-infused kiss. 

Jubilee reached over the counter and casually pried the glasses from between Erik’s fingers, and pretended not to notice as Erik’s now free arm coiled around Charles’ waist. Okay, so maybe she was a bit of a voyeur when it came to boys in drag, especially _her_ boys, as she affectionately thought of them. She loved the way Erik gazed at Charles with blind adoration, and how Charles just melded into Erik’s arms like he was made to be there. In truth, she was a bit jealous of their relationship, but her envy was trumped by happiness for Erik finally getting his happily ever after. And with what Charles had planned for Erik’s Christmas gift, things were only going to get better for both of them. 

While Jubilee was distracted by another request for shots, Charles extracted himself from Erik’s arms just enough to finish off his martini. 

“Come on Charles, they’re playing our song,” Erik took Charles by the hand and started to lead him towards the dance floor, but Charles’ lack of enthusiasm gave him pause. “You don’t need to be self-conscious.” Erik smiled brightly. “Just be yourself, like always.” 

“I wish I had half of your courage,” Charles answered, reluctantly following Erik onto the dance floor. 

“You have all that and more, for making it this far,” Erik assured him. “Just relax, and remember, don’t look at them, look at me.” 

Charles nodded and, just as he stepped onto the multicolored tiles, Jubilee materialized between them. 

“A little liquid courage, Charles?” Jubilee held up a tray with two shots. “And by that I mean liquid cocaine, of course.” 

Charles could have hugged her if he wasn’t afraid of tipping the tray. Instead, he took the shot and gave her a quick peck on the cheek while Erik grabbed the other glass. “You always know just what I need, don’t you?” 

“You had that look on your face from the first time you came here,” she shrugged. “I figured this would help.” 

Charles tossed the shot back quickly, wincing at the slight afterburn. Erik followed suit and, with a quick wink Jubilee snatched their glasses back and disappeared into the growing crowd. Charles wobbled slightly on his feet and put out a hand to steady himself, only to have Erik lace their fingers together and tug him deeper into the dance floor. 

“Dance with me!” Erik didn’t bother to phrase it as a question, and this time Charles didn’t hesitate. With Erik it was easy to lose himself, to forget his anxiety and insecurities and just _dance_. Here, now, their bodies moving languidly against each other, Charles closed his eyes and let the rest of the world fall away. Although he’d never admit it aloud, Charles needed this, this music, this place, this _escape_ , just as much as Erik did. 

Much later, when Charles’ feet were aching and his bladder ached even more, he murmured a few words into Erik’s ear and they threaded through the mass of dancers with practiced efficiency. 

“Meet you at the bar,” Erik shouted over the music, and Charles gave a quick wave to show that he’d heard before making his way to the washrooms. 

The symbols on the doors gave Charles pause, his eyes flicking from Women, to Men, to the 50/50 split on the third door. He glanced down at his outfit, then back at the symbols, and took a deep breath before pushing open the third door and slipping inside. 

The drag queen fixing her makeup glanced over when Charles entered and flashed him a smile. Charles shyly smiled back and headed for the very last stall. Behind him, the drag queen snapped her clutch purse closed, gave herself a last glance in the mirror, and left to rejoin the throngs of people outside. 

Charles stopped just short of entering the stall, distracted by a coin-operated dispenser on the back wall. He scanned the options out of curiosity – tampons, condoms, lip balm, lubricant…hang on. A wicked thought sprang into Charles’ mind as though it had a will of its own, and he threw a quick glance behind him to make sure he was alone. Satisfied, he rifled through the bedazzled silver clutch purse he’d borrowed from Erik, fished out a few quarters, and shoved them into the coin slot before he could change his mind. He then turned the dial for his desired option and snatched the compact package from the machine the second it dispensed. Taking one last furtive look behind him, he hurried into the nearest stall and slammed the door. 

~

When Charles returned to the bar, Erik greeted him with a sugar-rimmed cocktail and a raised eyebrow. “For a minute there I was worried you’d gotten lost,” Erik deposited the cocktail glass in Charles’ hand and draped a possessive arm over his hips. “Let’s go upstairs for a bit and sit down, you’re looking flushed.” 

Charles looked away, certain that his expression would give away what he’d been up to in the bathroom. Erik, however, seemed completely oblivious, and by the time they reached the top of the stairs, Charles was no longer worried.

They spent the rest of the night drinking, laughing, and playing fashion critic to whoever passed by the velvet loveseat that, one very drunken night, Erik had scratched their names into with his fake nails. It was where they’d spent their first night together, and therefore, he’d concluded, slurring over the syllables, it belonged to them and no one else. 

“Last call, you want anything before we close the bar?” 

Erik glanced up at the server in surprise. “Already? I swear it gets earlier every night.” He nudged Charles, who was still giggling over Erik’s last snide comment about the yellow spandex number that had just walked by. “We’re getting the boot, darling. Where’s your Visa?” 

“In my purse, or I suppose your purse. Here.” Charles dropped the clutch into Erik’s lap and attempted to stand up. Erik automatically put out a hand to steady him while he located the credit card and handed it to the server. “We’re done for the night. Thank you.” 

It took them nearly ten minutes just to make it back down the stairs, holding on to each other and the railing like their lives depended on it, and when they finally made it outside, there was what looked like an endless lineup for cabs. 

“Apparently everyone else lost track of time as well,” Charles commented. “It’s not that cold out, shall we walk down a bit and find our own cab?”

“Sounds good.” Erik slipped his hand into his boyfriend’s and they edged past the crowded line. Less than a block down from the club, Charles spotted a cab headed their way. 

“Flash a little leg, maybe he’ll stop,” Erik advised. 

Charles shot him a look that was meant to be disapproving, and ended up as more of a sideways grin. He flagged down the cab, still grinning, and was about to step off the curb to meet it when someone shouldered past him to take the cab. 

“Move it, ya tranny slut!” 

Charles tripped backwards in his heels and was dimly aware of a hand against his back, stopping him from landing on the ground, and Erik’s voice asking if he was alright. Charles just nodded, shocked and angry not only at the guy that pushed him but at the tears now blurring his vision. 

Erik, meanwhile, moved swiftly past him, grabbed the guy by the back of his collar and dragged him back to the sidewalk. 

“What the hell?!” The guy yanked himself free and straightened his jacket. “Jesus, you’re one of ‘em too--”

Erik cut him off with a sucker punch to the jaw and the guy stumbled back, raising two fingers to the thin stream of blood at the corner of his mouth. He glared at Erik for a split second, and then made an off-kilter attempt to throw a punch of his own. Erik easily dodged it and grabbed him by the shoulders before driving his knee right between his assailant’s legs. The guy sank to the ground, making a noise that sounded like a dying whale, and Erik crouched down to meet his eyes. 

“This is my neighborhood,” Erik spoke in a low, but commanding tone. “That’s my bar over there” –he grabbed the guy’s chin and jerked his head to one side— “and that’s _my boyfriend_. Now.” Erik forced him to meet his eyes again. “If you so much as look at him the wrong way again, I will break your fingers one by one under the heel of my stilettos. Got it?” 

The guy just nodded, still clutching both hands between his legs. 

“Good.” Erik let go of his jaw and stood up. “Come on, love, the cab’s waiting.” 

Charles was still standing exactly where Erik had left him, and had watched the entire incident in stunned silence. He let Erik guide him into the cab and give the address to the waiting driver before throwing his arms around his neck and kissing him fiercely, dragging him back until they were nearly horizontal in the back of the cab. 

“This isn’t a hotel room,” the driver eyed them in the rearview mirror. 

Charles fumbled for the black clutch he’d brought to Zelda’s and threw a folded fifty dollar bill into the front seat. “There’s another for you when we arrive if you leave us alone.” 

The driver shrugged, shoved the fifty in his pocket, and didn’t say another word. 

Charles sucked in a breath as Erik tongued along his jaw and sucked hard just above his jugular, teeth grazing against Charles’ skin. Charles slid his hands down the mesh sides of Erik’s dress and down to his smooth, fishnet-free thighs. His fingers dug into Erik’s legs as Erik bit down harder and elicited a moan from Charles’ lips. 

“In..me…now,” Charles managed to say, his voice halting. 

“We’re almost home,” Erik reminded him gently, nuzzling behind his ear. 

“Now,” Charles repeated, and Erik reached beneath the hem of Charles’ dress to stroke his straining erection. 

“Soon,” was Erik’s amused reply. “just one more minute and I’ll take you right there in the foyer, I promise.” 

The cab came to a stop and Charles tossed the cab driver another bill before taking Erik by the hand and leading him to the front door. 

“Not that I’m complaining, but you weren’t this eager to take me to bed until I punched that guy." Erik snatched the keys from Charles’ fumbling hands. 

Charles pressed his body flush against Erik’s. “Maybe I liked watching you defend my honor.”

Erik smirked and pushed Charles up against the front door, grinding roughly against him and causing Charles’ dress to ride halfway up his hips. In response, Charles wrapped first one leg, then the other, around Erik’s waist, using his shoulders for leverage. A cold December wind whipped past them and Charles shivered and the frigid air caressed his bare legs. 

Erik reached behind him and unlocked the door, then shifted his grip and carried Charles inside. He closed the door behind them and pushed Charles back up against it, effectively mirroring their positions from only seconds ago. 

“Get in me now,” Charles ordered impatiently, hitching up the edges of Erik’s dress. 

Erik slipped a hand between Charles’ legs. “You know I can’t yet. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You won’t—ahh—” Charles bit his lip as Erik eased first one, then two fingers inside of him. 

“You’re just full of surprises.” Erik removed his fingers, now slick with lubricant, and thrust inside of Charles hard enough to rattle the door behind him. They moaned in unison, both relishing the unique ecstasy of those first moments of entry. 

“Come on now don’t be gentle I won’t break—” Charles choked on his words as Erik thrust into him again, this time without pausing before establishing an rough, urgent rhythm. Erik pressed closer and covered Charles’ mouth with his own, swallowing every gasp, every groan until he needed to gasp for air himself and their lips brushed together haphazardly, wet and open and begging for contact. 

Charles dug his nails into Erik’s shoulder blades, attempting to wrench them closer even though there was no longer any space between them and Erik’s hips snapped forward in response, once, twice and then his entire body quaked as the orgasm ripped through him. Charles came a few seconds later, shuddering in Erik’s still shaking arms, and they slowly sank to the floor intertwined together. 

Charles rested his cheek against Erik’s shoulder, breathing slowly and heavily and still not quite seeing straight. Erik was still inside him and he wanted to always be connected like this, with no space between them, no room to even breathe without the other knowing. 

“I love you,” the words escaped his lips unbidden, as easy as exhaling, and Erik returned the words without hesitation. Charles smiled and turned his face into Erik’s neck. 

“Is this the part where you carry me upstairs?” 

Erik chuckled softly. “If you like.”

He shifted them enough to smooth the fabric of their dresses down, and managed to shakily climb to his feet with Charles still in his arms. When they reached their bedroom, Erik eased Charles down onto the bed and unzipped the back of his dress before turning and kneeling so that Charles could to the same. Shoes were kicked off and gently swept into a corner by the vanity, and Erik carefully removed Charles’ wig and arranged it on a wig head beside his own before crawling naked under the duvet to join his lover. 

Charles immediately curled up against him, resting his head against Erik’s chest and his arm across Erik’s stomach. Erik closed his eyes and let his fingers find their own familiar way, one hand caressing Charles’ forearm while the other stroked his hair. 

“Erik,” Charles mumbled sleepily. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Anything.” 

Charles was silent for a minute, but Erik didn’t push further. Finally, Charles spoke again. 

“What he said. The guy you punched, I mean.”

Erik felt a lump form in his throat. “You can’t let people like that stop you from being who you are.”

“I know. I mean, I guess I don’t because I haven’t…look.” Charles shifted back to meet Erik’s eyes. “You’ve had to deal with people like that before, haven’t you?” 

Erik nodded slowly. “For most of my adult life, and before you ask, no, I haven’t punched any of them until now.” 

Charles went quiet, thinking. Then, “How do you stand it? How do you find the strength to keep being you when people treat you like you’re some kind of mutant?” 

This time it was Erik who was silent. Charles bit his lip, worried that he’d gone too far. 

“Remember that night I showed up homeless at your door? My landlord had sent her lackeys to kick me out, and I called her to beg for a few more nights.” Erik paused. “She called me a tranny slut and told me to get out.” 

Before Charles could reply, Erik continued, staring fixedly at the ceiling. “The way I felt then, all that shame and self-hate, came rushing back when I heard those words tonight and I knew I never wanted you to feel the same way. I couldn’t bear it if you fell into the same pattern of self-loathing that because of some cruel, intolerant asshole.” 

Charles leaned up and placed a soft, lingering kiss on Erik’s lips. “Thank you,” he said quietly, eyes shining even in the darkness. 

Erik turned on his side, drawing Charles in against him. “You know I never had any strength of my own. It was all booze and bravado and ‘here and now’. You, Charles, you’re the reason I’m still standing.” 

“Oh, my love,” Charles whispered, closing his eyes. “There’s so much more to you than you know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. [Jefree Star](http://www.jefreestarcosmetics.com) released a lipstick line in December 2014, meaning I screwed with the timeline a lot but once you see how beautiful these lipsticks are you’ll understand why I had to include them.  
> 2\. Erik’s dress is from [Dolls Kill](http://www.dollskill.com/eden-dress.html), which sold Jefree Star Cosmetics after his website had sold out.  
> 3\. Christina Aguilera's [custom Louboutins](http://www.thebrokeassbride.com/2012/03/cant-afford-it-get-over-it-christian-louboutin-burlesque-look-a-likes-for-under-a-grand/) and lookalikes, plus ways to customize your own version for cheaper. With a little help from this website, Etsy, and Erik's DIY skills, he ended up with a pair of shoes that looked pretty damn close!  
> 3\. Erik and Charles’ [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=40ha3dajybQ).  
> 4\. There are a lot of different recipes for liquid cocaine, but the one Jubilee used was  
> ½ oz silver tequila  
> ½ oz vodka  
> ½ oz light rum  
> ½ oz Everclear alcohol


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik drags Raven out of the house to go shopping. Also, Charles is still plotting something secret for Christmas. The real question is, will I get the Christmas chapter out for Christmas?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a REALLY long time so if anyone's still reading, hi! And thank you for sticking around to read this! Every year I aim to have a Christmas chapter out by December and it never happens. Maybe this time around it'll actually get done! Also, I did a ton of online window shopping for this chapter so see the end notes for links to the dresses mentioned!  
> Also, I swear I'm posting a playlist soon. Just have to put it back together again because I added and rearranged some things, and it'll be up while I work on the Christmas chapter!

Four days before her Christmas party, Raven was lying on her bed browsing Google images for domino masks, Venetian masks, masks with lace, and any other mask-related query she could think of. 

“This is hopeless,” she sighed and rolled onto her back, shoving her tablet off to one side. 

“That’s a bit defeatist, don’t you think?” 

Raven craned her neck to view Erik stopped outside her open door. “I’ve been trying to find the perfect outfit for my party for weeks, and now it’s four days ’til Saturday and I still have nothing.” 

Erik leaned on her doorframe, slipping his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “We’ve all been there, hon. Didn’t you just go out shopping with that girl with the tattoos?” 

“Angel. And yeah, I helped her pick out a dress, shoes, mask, everything, and found nothing for me.” Raven sat up and dangled her legs off the side of the bed. “I lied and told her I already had a dress because we ran out of time.” 

Erik thought for a moment, then shrugged. “You have time now, right?” 

“I guess.” 

“Then let’s go.” 

Raven just stared at him. “Go where?”

“To find Cinderella a dress for the ball.” Erik disappeared down the hall, and, after a moment’s hesitation, Raven grabbed her purse and coat from her desk chair and hurried after him. 

“Does that make you my fairy godmother?” Raven called, shrugging her faux-fur lined winter coat on behind him. 

Erik glanced back over his shoulder. “I like to think I have better fashion sense. Glass slippers are so impractical.” 

They reached the bottom of the stairs and Erik snatched a charcoal-grey peacoat and matching scarf from the closet in the entryway and held the door open for Raven. She took the steps two at a time, barely minding the thin sheets of ice on the walkway as she led the way to the black Audi TT Coupé parked down the driveway. 

Raven was about to open the passenger side door when Erik came up beside her. “You’re driving.” 

“Why? You’re the one taking me out.”

Erik looked away, embarrassed. “I can’t. No license.” 

Raven started. “Seriously?”

“Can we not make a big deal about it?” Erik shuffled his feet anxiously, and Raven realized this was the first time she’d seen him so uncomfortable. She tossed her hair behind her and strode to the driver’s side. 

“Charles never lets me drive,” Raven beamed. This is going to be fun.” 

As they drove through the gates, Erik moved his seat back as far as it would go and propped his feet up on the dashboard, crossing his legs at the ankles. Raven glanced sideways at him in amusement. 

“You’re going to get us pulled over.”

“Please. You’re the one not wearing a seatbelt.” Erik replied with a grin. 

Raven pulled a face at him and clicked her seatbelt into place. “So where to, fairy godmother?” 

“West 37th Street,” Erik said, ignoring his new nickname. “There’s a vintage place there that’s to die for.”

“West 37th? That’s pretty upscale.” 

“For someone like me, you mean?” Erik shrugged. “They have a discount section in the back, for items with little defects and loose threads that make them less than perfect. I used to put things on hold and pay for them when I saved enough money. Or never, if I was behind on the rent.” 

“You have money now,” Raven observed. “And no rent to pay, which is a bonus.” 

“Yeah, well. We’re shopping for you today, Cinderella.” 

“Speaking of which, are we feeling a little stir crazy?” Raven teased. “Charles left you alone for one day and you practically jumped at the chance to get out of the house.” 

“Maybe I’m just enthusiastic about designer dresses.” 

Raven rolled her eyes. “No shit, Sherlock. I lost count of how many times I’ve seen you wear that red Herve Leger dress. Or rather, how many times I’ve found it discarded halfway up the stairs.” 

Erik pretended to be scandalized, but Raven smacked him playfully on the arm. “Drop the act. I’ve oddly gotten used to finding a trail of clothing leading to you and Charles’ room in the morning.” She glanced over at Erik, gauging his reaction. “Anyway, it’s fine if you’re just using me as a distraction. I don’t mind.” 

Erik sighed. “I just feel really trapped sometimes, you know? My life’s become a back and forth between the house, the university, and Zelda’s. I miss just being able to walk out of my apartment and go places.” He gazed out the window as he spoke. “I love Charles more than life itself, but sometimes that house is just too much for me.” 

Raven nodded. “I know the feeling. Why do you think I’ve been spending so much time at Irene’s apartment?”

“So that you don’t have to look at every piece of furniture and wonder if your brother and I had sex on it?” 

“That too.” Raven shuddered. “The Xavier estate is huge and sprawling and if you spend too much time there, it starts to feel like a prison.”

“Exactly. I miss living in the city.” 

“Then tell him.”

Erik stared at her as if she’d grown a second head. “What?”

“Tell Charles how you feel,” Raven enunciated the words slowly, like she was speaking to a child. 

Erik shook his head. “I can’t do that.” 

“Why not? Charles would literally do anything for you. He’d bring you the moon if he could.” 

“Exactly. I can’t ask him to uproot his life for me.” 

“Like you did for him?” 

“I showed up at his doorstep because I had nowhere else to go. Charles gave me a home, a job, my entire life back,” Erik retorted. “What am I supposed to say to him? ‘Hey, thanks for everything but your house is big and empty and it kind of freaks me out’?” 

They stopped at a red light and Raven shifted to meet his eyes. “Maybe you should stop and think about everything you’ve given him.” 

Erik shrank back into the seat, dropping his feet to the floor of the car. “I don’t have anything to give,” he said quietly.

“You really don’t get it, do you? Charles has grown more in the past four months than he has in his entire life. Since he met you he’s been happier and more self-confident than I’ve ever seen him. Not to mention, he’s finally accepted his sexuality because he accepted yours, and don’t think I didn’t see you two sneaking out last week in matching bob wigs. He would never have had the courage to do that before you.” Raven took a deep breath before continuing. “Something’s come over him since he met you, Erik. I even caught him dancing in the kitchen one morning. Dancing. The Charles I took to the concert that night would never in a million years have danced anywhere ever.” 

Erik looked away. “I never…I never thought…” 

“Obviously not.” The light turned green and Raven hit the accelerator. “Tell him how you feel.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence, and it wasn’t until they passed Penn Station that Raven spoke again. 

“Left or right?” 

Erik blinked. “What?” 

“On 37th,” Raven clarified. “Left or right?” 

“Oh. Turn left.” Erik scanned the buildings outside his window. “That one there,” he said, pointing. “It’s called Morphew.” 

Raven obediently parked only a few steps away from the shop and got out of the car, watching for passing traffic as she edged between two parked cars to reach the sidewalk. Erik followed her without a word, still thinking about what she’d said. He couldn’t believe that he’d singlehandedly changed Charles’ life so dramatically, but part of him selfishly wondered if it could be true. An image of Charles in that gorgeous lace dress sprang unbidden in to his mind, and Erik remembered the way he had encouraged Charles to come to Zelda’s night after night, to try out his mascara, to feel comfortable in a pilfered set of Erik’s fishnets, and suddenly he realized that everything Raven said was true. 

“Erik!” A tall, impeccably dressed young man strode towards Erik and clasped his hands together. “I was beginning to think you’d dropped off the face of the earth!” His speech was tinged with a New Orleans accent, one he had spent years trying to soften. Erik couldn’t help but notice he was also wearing head to toe Galliano, from his two-button grey wool blazer and inverted tuxedo pants to his leather and denim sneakers.

“For a minute there, so did I,” Erik mustered a smile for his old friend and turned to introduce him to Raven. “Raven, this is an old friend of mine, Remy LeBeau. Remy, Raven.” 

Remy lifted Raven’s hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “A pleasure, chere.” 

Erik glared daggers at him. “Don’t start.” 

Remy took a step back and flashed his most winning smile. “I meant nothing by it.” 

“Of course you didn’t.” 

Raven, meanwhile, was staring at Remy’s eyes. “Are those contacts?” she blurted, referring to the deep crimson hue of his irises. 

Remy smiled wider. “My, your girlfriend is quite charming, no?” 

“Please. In what universe would I have a girlfriend?” Erik replied. “She’s my boyfriend’s sister.” He stressed the word boyfriend and watched realization dawn in Remy’s unnatural eyes, which reminded him of Raven’s initial question. “And no, Raven, that’s his natural eye colour.” 

Remy recovered himself, that winning smile falling right back into place. “Ah, yes. Back home in the French Quarter they called me _le diable blanc_. So,” he continued, noticing Erik’s growing impatience, “would you like to see what I have for you in the back?” 

“Actually, we’re here for Raven,” Erik answered. 

Remy raised an eyebrow, but turned his attention to Raven. “What can I do for you, petite?” 

“I’m holding a masquerade on Saturday and I need a dress,” Raven explained. “I’ve been shopping already, but I just can’t find what I’m looking for.” 

“And what are you looking for?” 

Raven sighed. “That’s the problem. I have no idea.” 

“Right, then. Take your coat off and let’s have a look at you.” 

Raven glanced at Erik for reassurance, and he nodded slightly. She unbuttoned her coat and Remy slipped it off her shoulders, hanging it on a coat rack next to the doors before appraising her. 

“Hmm.” He considered her worn out Guess jeans, knee high black boots, and v-neck sweater. “Sit down,” he ordered, gesturing to the plush white chairs a few feet away. “I’ll be back in a moment.” Raven did as she was told while Erik remained standing, browsing the surrounding racks while Remy disappeared into the next room. 

“He is gorgeous!” Raven declared, as soon as Remy was out of sight. “And talk about a sexy accent! Tell me he’s straight?” 

Erik dropped the price tag he was inspecting and moved on to a rack of knit sweaters. “He’s straight,” he affirmed. “And last time I saw him, he was engaged to a girl back in New Orleans” 

Raven’s shoulders slumped. “Oh well. Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the view.” 

“I have a Gaultier, a Valentino, and two 1920s-style pieces here,” Remy swept back into the room, four hangers hooked on his fingers.

“I have no idea what any of that means,” Raven responded, rising from her chair. Erik and Remy both stared at her in disbelief. 

“What?” she held up her hands. “I wear what I like, and I don’t look at the labels.” 

Erik took the dresses from Remy and slipped his free arm through Raven’s. “Let’s go try these on, and I’ll try not to judge you for your ignorance.” 

The Valentino gown was rejected almost immediately. “It’s beautiful, but I need something I can dance in.” 

Erik took the gown and handed it to Remy, while Raven considered the Jean-Paul Gaultier minidress she was wearing. “Charles might actually kill me for showing this much midriff,” she commented wryly. “Also, knowing that the ‘90s are considered vintage make me feel super old.”

“How do you think I feel?” Erik smirked as she retreated into the fitting room. 

The next dress was a short, peach coloured number with sparkling gold beads. “Love the style, not so sure about the colour.”

“Good,” Erik said. “That means we’re getting somewhere. Try on the last one.” 

The final dress was a light, flirty tunic from the 1920s, made from Egyptian assuit fabric and embellished with pure silver. “I feel like I walked out of The Great Gatsby,” Raven did a quick 360 in front of the mirrors. 

“It suits you,” Erik watched her turn and pose in the mirror. “It’s cute and flirty, and easy to dance in, just like you wanted. Plus, that textile is extremely rare. No one else will have a dress like that.” 

“I know, and I love it. But I was hoping for something a little less Gatsby and a little more Mardi Gras.”

Remy perked up immediately. “Why didn’t you say so?” He nearly ran out of the room, evidently in search of another dress. He returned almost immediately with a black garment bag, grinning from ear to ear. “When you said masquerade, I assumed something elegant and holiday themed.” 

Raven shook her head. “My friends and I just got out of exams, and we’re all exhausted and sick of seeing Christmas everywhere. I figured we needed a different kind of festive this year.” 

“This dress is from this year’s summer-fall Chic Circus collection,” Remy explained, unzipping the garment bag. “I was holding it for another customer, but she never came by to pick it up.” 

The dress was covered in a myriad of sequined floral patterns and sported feathered fringes down one side and at the hips in various shades of purple and fuchsia. Raven reached out to touch it, then snatched her hand back as though worried she’d be chastised. 

“Go ahead,” Remy slipped the hanger out of the bag and held it out to her. “Try it on.” 

Raven carefully took the dress from him and stepped back into the fitting room. When she didn’t come back out within a few minutes, Erik tapped lightly on the door. 

“Is everything alright?” he asked. 

“Oh, it’s more than alright,” came Raven’s muted reply. She opened the door and stepped out. “It’s perfect.” She ran her hands lightly over the beads and sequins, fingered the feathers at her hips reverently. 

“It’s like it was just sitting here waiting for you.” Erik itched to trace the pattern of those intricate designs, but he kept his hands firmly at his sides. 

“I never want to take it off.” Raven turned slowly in the mirror, marvelling at the way the patterns glittered under the track lights. 

“Angel is going to simultaneously love and hate me for this, and I don’t even care.” 

Remy took a causal step forward. “I take it this is coming home with you then, chere?” 

Raven nodded. “Can I just have a few more minutes, though? I’m not ready to take it off yet.” 

“Of course. Take all the time you need.” Remy smiled knowingly and, taking Erik by the arm, led him from the fitting area. 

“She’s completely smitten by that dress,” Erik said. “And I don’t blame her. It’s absolutely gorgeous.” 

“The way you were looking at that dress, it seemed like you were smitten as well.” 

Erik shook his head. “It’s beautiful, but I would never get in the way of someone else’s perfect dress.” 

“Then perhaps you might like one of your own?” Remy gestured to another garment bag hanging behind the main desk. “I pulled this while I was looking for Raven’s dress.” He slipped behind the desk and unhooked it from the rack. “It’s got your name on it.” 

Erik tried to feign disinterest and failed miserably. “How long have you been holding onto that?” 

“Three months, 5 days. I knew you’d be back eventually. Would you like to do the honours?”

Erik dutifully unzipped the bag about a fifth of the way, and had to hold back a very girlish shriek when he caught a glimpse of the pattern. “You didn’t,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, but I did. Hurry and unzip the rest, I’ve been waiting all this time just to see your reaction.” 

Erik finished unzipping the bag and braced a hand against the desk. “That is a goddamn Alexander McQueen!” 

The printed long-sleeve jersey dress seemed to call out to him, and after a long moment, Erik ventured to touch the smooth fabric, tracing patterns of purple and blue with the same wonder that Raven had admired her own dress. Remy gently removed the dress from the garment bag and handed it to his friend. “Try it on.” 

Erik moved to take it, but stopped himself short. “How much?” he asked, eyeing the dress warily. 

“$300. No tax.” 

“You’re kidding.” 

Remy shook his head. “I would never joke about McQueen.”

“I hate you so much right now.” 

“You love me.” Remy grinned and offered the dress again. “Try it on,” he repeated. 

This time, Erik took it without hesitation and practically ran back to the fitting rooms, nearly bumping into Raven on her way out. 

“What’s going on?” Raven called as he claimed a fitting room. “I could hear you freaking out from back here.” 

“McQueen,” was Erik’s only reply. 

“Still don’t know what that means.” Raven flopped down in a plush black armchair to wait. 

“You know how you felt when Remy showed you your perfect dress? That’s me right now.” 

Erik couldn’t believe that the dress actually fit him. On the woman that this was made for, it would have hit her knees, the wide boat neck sliding off the shoulder to reveal hints of collarbone. On him, however, the neckline curved flawlessly around his throat, and the hem stopped a little below his hips, just the way he liked it. The sleeves, oddly enough, were a touch too long, meaning he could actually grip the edge to keep them from riding up when he put on his coat. It’s the little things, Erik thought, pivoting on his bare toes to view the back of the dress. 

“Well? Do I get to see this masterpiece of a dress or are you going to stay in there all day staring at yourself?” 

Erik’s heart skipped a beat. He’d never shopped with anyone before, never been asked to model a dress before buying it. Even Charles had just ordered everything online, and Erik would wear it out the same night it arrived. The thought of walking out of this change room and having Raven see him in it, no wig, no high heels, no makeup to hide behind, scared him more than he was willing to admit. 

“Is it actually a huge disappointment?” Raven continued, oblivious to his inner conflict. “If you hate it, we can call it nasty names and then go try on a Galliano or whatever and make it watch.” 

Erik grinned, in spite of himself. Things were different now, he knew that. Charles and Raven weren’t the same as everyone else. He took a deep breath and opened the door, mentally bracing himself for Raven’s reaction. 

“How is it that you look like a goddess in that dress, but if I put it on I’d look like a 6 year old raiding her mom’s closet?” Raven crooked her finger, beckoning him out of the fitting room. “Come on, give us a good look, you know you want to.” 

_You look like a goddess_. Erik gaped at her, uncertain as to whether he’d heard her correctly, until Raven took his hand and pulled him forward. 

“Seriously though, if you don’t buy it, I’m getting it for you.”

Erik snapped back to reality and dropped his hand from hers. “Don’t you dare. You’re spending a ridiculous amount on your own dress already.” 

“Did I mention that I have my brother’s credit card?” Raven shrugged. “Well, he pays it off, anyway.” 

“Did I mention that your brother’s been spoiling me rotten for the past few months?” Erik walked over to the mirrors, turning on his toes as though mimicking a pair of heels. “I think it’s time I treated myself for once.” 

Remy appeared behind him in the mirror, as if on command. “Would you like me to put it back on hold for you, then?” 

Erik shook his head. “I’ll take it now.” 

Remy raised an eyebrow in surprise, but Erik ignored him and returned to the fitting room. “Yes, what a shock, I actually saved my paychecks and can afford something nice.” 

“I didn’t say anything,” Remy replied innocently. 

A few minutes later, as Remy folded Erik’s dress and gently placed it onto a bed of tissue paper, he opened the desk drawer and retrieved a plain white envelope, which he placed into the dress box before closing it. 

“The tickets you asked for,” Remy explained. “Though I still don’t know what you would want with them. You were never interested in genetic engineering.” 

“It’s a Christmas gift,” Erik replied, handing over his debit card. 

“Ah, for your new beau, I assume?” 

Erik nodded. “Anyway. I appreciate you getting these for me on such short notice.” 

“Hey, what’s taking you so long? We still have to find a mask to match this!” Raven sidestepped next to Erik at the cash, garment bag dangling from her fingers. 

“I’m paying for my dress all by myself,” Erik smirked. “I’m just enjoying the moment.” 

Raven slipped her arms through his. “Moment’s over.” 

Remy glanced from Erik to Raven, and back again. “She is an impatient one, no?” 

“Apparently.” Erik shoved his card back into his pocket and picked up the dress box. “I’ll be by more often, now that my life’s a bit more…stable.”

“I look forward to it,” Remy answered with a grin. “And bring this new boyfriend around next time. I’d love to meet him.” 

“Another time, maybe. Thanks again.” He allowed himself to be led from the store by the arm, while Remy looked after them with a mixture of amusement and confusion.

~

The first thing Charles heard when he entered the main foyer was a familiar thumping bassline. Kicking off his snow covered boots, he followed the sound to the kitchen, pausing only briefly to drop his leather shoulder bag on a chair in his study. 

Charles could hear Raven’s peals of laughter over the chorus of the song and he couldn’t help but chuckle as Erik playfully snatched a package of candy from her hands. “I told you to stop stealing the M & M’s!” 

“And I told you to use the Smarties!” Raven grinned at Erik and popped a pilfered M & M in her mouth. 

“It’s not the same,” Erik complained, but he, too was smiling. Raven moved to take the bag back, but Erik kept it out of her reach. “If you keep eating them, there won’t be any—Charles!” he dropped the candy on the counter and ducked around Raven to wrap Charles in a tight embrace. Raven, meanwhile, grabbed the forgotten candy and started eating them again. 

Charles leaned up on his toes to meet Erik’s lips. “What’s all this?” 

Erik shrugged. “Everything but the kitchen sink.” 

“I can see that,” Charles replied, nodding towards the mess of open containers and candy littering the counter. 

“Don’t worry, we have a bowl here for you too,” Raven interjected, pushing jars and wrappers aside. “Um…somewhere. Erik, maybe you should show Charles the dress you bought today while I look for it.” 

Erik blanched at Raven’s pointed stare. “Do you really think now’s the best time?”

“You agreed that you should stop putting things off.”

Charles glanced from Erik to Raven, and back again. “Why do I get the feeling that this isn’t about a dress?” 

Erik took Charles’ hand and wordlessly led him from the kitchen and back down the hall. As soon as they reached the bottom of the stairs, Charles stopped walking and dropped his hand. “Erik, what’s going on? Is everything alright?” 

Erik stared fixedly at a single spot on the floor. “We need to talk.” 

Charles’ breath caught. Those were the last words he’d expected to hear. Every possible scenario flashed through his mind, most of which involved Erik leaving. Had something happened? Had he done something? 

“I’ve been thinking about this for awhile, and then Raven convinced me that I should just tell you so here I am, telling you,” Erik took a deep breath. “I can’t stay here.”

Charles’ heart stopped. His chest tightened, aching, as though he might go into cardiac arrest right there in the foyer. 

“Oh god. Charles, I didn’t mean it like that,” Erik took Charles’ hands again and finally looked him in the eye. “I just mean…this house is beautiful. But it’s also vast and empty and far away from everything and I can’t even go to the grocery store without you or Raven driving me. I feel trapped here, Charles. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I want us to get a place together. Something smaller and in the city, closer to people and public transit. You know I’m grateful for this house, for everything, and if this is too fast for you I understand, but…”

As Erik kept rambling, Charles finally allowed himself to exhale, his entire body relaxing. That was what this was about? He almost laughed aloud with relief, but instead he interrupted Erik with a single word. 

“Okay.” 

Erik stopped talking and stared at him. “Okay?” 

Charles nodded. “Erik, I grew up in this house, and even though it belongs to me, nothing in it is really mine.” He smiled wistfully. “Until now, I’ve never had a reason to make my own home when there was a perfectly good one right here. But it’s not perfect, not for you and definitely not for me.” 

Erik pulled him into a tight embrace, resting his chin on Charles’ shoulder. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?” 

“Perhaps, but remind me again.” Charles turned his face into Erik's chest and breathed deeply, entirely certain that home didn’t mean the walls around them. It meant being in Erik’s arms, right here and now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. [The Audi](http://www.audi.ca/ca/web/en/models/tt/tt-coupe.html)  
> 3\. [Remy's shoes](http://www.raffaello-network.com/english/fashion-details/220275/1567/Galliano%20Mens%20Shoes.html)  
> 4\. [Gaultier minidress](http://morphewconcept.com/collections/dresses/products/1990s-jean-paul-gaultier-mini-dress-min101_on140)  
> 5\. [Egyptian assuit dress](http://morphewconcept.com/collections/dresses/products/egyptian-hand-embelished-silver-assuit-dress-20b95_on240)  
> 6\. [Raven's final dress](http://www.morphewconcept.com/collections/chic-circus/products/colorful-fun-and-sparkly-cocktail-dress-with-fringe-de-78b101_on656)  
> 7\. [Erik's McQueen](http://www.vestiairecollective.com/women-clothing/dresses/alexander-mcqueen/multicolour-viscose-dress-610406.shtml)


	10. Musical interlude - the Here and Now playlist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The playlist I've been promising for the past 3 chapters is finally live!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning to have 2 more chapters up by the end of the year now that I have home internet, but for now here is the definitive playlist for the past 9 chapters! Also, I'm going to start posting chapters for a new fic that's been sitting on my hard drive for a couple of years. I was just writing it for me, as a kind of therapy, but i think I'm finally ready to share it. Anyway, enjoy the playlist and I'll be back with chapter 10 before you know it!

Complete playlist can be found [here](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLn9PfP8yVw5TA2GwUE1JT3dBGSgDFT-MM). 

1\. Wynter Gordon, "Don't Stop Me"  
For chapter 1, when Erika and Charles first meet. 

_I can feel it in the air  
I can hear the fire burning  
I wish that you were mine  
But I know I don't deserve it  
And I'll be okay, if I make it til the morning  
And I wanna scream it out, that I'm sorry but I'm not  
Know this feeling is wrong but I don't care  
Now we're standing alone, got me out here  
And I'm up so high that I can't come down  
All the beats so hot, yeah, beat so loud  
And I'm crying out_

_[Chorus]  
Open up your eyes and see the light  
Let me take you out into the night  
You're giving me the look, you want it  
You've done it now_

2\. Jeffree Star, "Legs Up"  
Kind of a chapter 1 song but mostly for Charles taking Erika home to bed!

_Don't get me wrong  
I throw my hands up on the dance floor  
But the way you work it got me begging you for more  
Hold me close, let me show you dirty  
We'll make it hot sweating all through the night singin  
I got you dancing on me  
We got our hands up singing  
I want you pounding on me_

_So get your legs up  
(Yeah, uh huh, dat's right)  
I want your legs up  
So getchya legs up (oh, oh, oh)  
Don't wantchya hands up (no oh, oh, oh)  
I want your legs up  
Don't wantchya drinks up (no oh, oh, oh)  
I wantchya legs up_

3\. Garbage, "Androgyny"  
For Zelda's, of course. 

_When everything is going wrong  
And you can't see the point of going on   
Nothing in life is set in stone   
There's nothing that can't be turned around _

_Nobody wants to be alone  
Everybody wants to love someone   
Out of the tree go pick a plum   
Why can't we all just get along _

_Boys in the girl's room  
Girls in the men's room   
You free your mind in your androgyny   
Boys in the parlor   
They're getting harder   
I'll free your mind in your androgyny _

4\. Kerli, "Strange Boy"  
Really though Charles, why do you keep coming back to him?

_You should never leave me home alone [2x]  
Heaven knows where I might wanna go   
Everything I do is oh so wrong   
That's why you like it_

_When you ask if you could be my man  
I say, thank you honey, come again _

_Strange boy, Innocent  
You're here, Magnificent   
Strange boy, Innocent   
You're here, Magnificent_

5\. Cobra Starship, "My Moves are Hot"  
Erika getting flirty at the bar and dragging Charles onto the dance floor in chapter 4!

_Take my time.  
Take it easier.  
Don't need no lines  
'Cause my moves are hot  
And I never stop, girl._

_Hey, I know,  
You heard it all before  
And you seen it all.  
Hey, I know,  
It's the same old song,  
Same old song._

_I'm the kinda guy that you ain't ever seen before.  
If you wanna hit the floor,  
Are you ready for more?  
I'm the kinda guy that it ain't easy to forget.  
Girl, I'm gonna make you sweat,  
Are you ready, are you ready for more?_

6\. Kesha, "Take it Off"  
Charles finally lets go and dances, but things are getting a little too heated. 

_There's a place downtown,  
Where the freaks all come around.  
It's a hole in the wall.  
It's a dirty free for all._

_And they turn me on.  
When they Take It Off.  
When they Take It Off.  
Everybody Take It Off._

_There's a place I know  
If you're looking for a show.  
Where they go hardcore  
And there's glitter on the floor._

_And they turn me on.  
When they Take It Off.  
When they Take It Off.  
Everybody Take It Off._

7\. The Tiny, "Closer"  
Erik shows up at Charles' door to beg forgiveness. Charles is treading the fine line between drunk and past-3am clarity and just wants back in Erik's arms. 

_Now I'm thinking maybe I was stoned  
I felt my feet lift off the ground  
And my heart was screamin' at my bones  
I need you closer_

_As he's in the middle of the street  
Then I pretend he's mine to keep  
Cars are runnin' fast on both sides of his head  
His eyes say, "Closer."_

_Closer, closer_

_I met him when the sun was down  
The bar was closed, we both have had no sleep  
My face beneath the streetlamp, it reveals what it is  
Lonely people seek_

_Closer, closer_

8\. Mika, "Touches You"  
“You’re you and you’re mine no matter what clothes you wear.”

_When you've had enough and you need somebody to know  
When you're looking tough but you need a way to let it go  
Come on now, what's a boy s'posed to do  
When I can't seem to leave you alone  
Touching me touching you_

_I wanna be your brother, wanna be your father too  
Never make you run for cover even if they want us to  
I wanna be your sister, wanna be your mother too  
I wanna be wanna be  
Whatever else that touches you_

9\. Girls Aloud, "Graffiti My Soul"  
Literally their theme song. I don't even know what else to say here. 

_Spike heels and skin tight jeans  
I've got a fistful of love that's coming your way baby  
Spike heels and skin tight jeans  
I've got a fistful of love that's coming your way baby  
Spike heels and skin tight jeans  
I've got a fistful of love that's coming your way baby_

_I'm hanging on a wire  
Spike heels and skin tight jeans  
I've got a fistful of love that's coming your way baby  
Come baby, come you know what I mean  
And the drum beats rising higher  
Bang goes my self control  
I've got your name on my face  
Your face on my mind baby  
Come baby, come  
Graffiti my soul_

_We should be getting it on  
Fly DJs playing my song  
Why don't you take me head on?  
We should be getting somewhere  
Some kind of cool an affair  
Don't act as if you don't care  
You dream of touching me_

10\. Adam Lambert, "Music Again"   
Chapter 7 - things are going so well, everyone's happy, and time is elapsing :P

_I'm so sick of living for other people  
Took meeting you to realise  
I don't wanna lose ya, I wanna keep ya_

_Put your little hand in mine and  
Look into my eyes, baby eyes  
Oh you make me wanna listen to music again  
Yeah you make me wanna listen to music again_

_There had been many moons before I met ya  
And I don't know when I last put paper to pen  
And now you give me back my raison d'être  
And I'm inspired again_

_And I know in some ways we're kinda evil  
Got my roots and you've got ties  
But my heart's no stranger to upheaval  
Put your little hand in mine and look into my Eyes, baby eyes_

11\. Grouplove, "Let Me In"  
Another filler track that just feels like their relationship 

_Gimme, gimme that love, I'll be waitin' for ya'  
Catch my hand, I'll be fightin' for ya'  
Let me in, yeah, let me get closer  
Got me runnin' wild like I feel it all over  
Catch my hand, I'll be fightin' for ya'_

_All this time been trippin' and slippin' around  
You got me, now I'm swimmin', swimmin' in clouds_

_Gimme, gimme that love, I'll be waitin' for ya'  
Catch my hand, I'll be fightin' for ya'_

_And I'm findin' out that all I know is right at home  
But I'm tellin' the man my plan to never feel alone  
Let me in, yeah, let me get closer  
Got my hands high like I ride a roller coaster  
Cannot be it, cannot be lonely  
Lookin' like you're lovin', you're livin' the moment_

12\. Adam Lambert, "Sure Fire Winners"  
Charles in heels? Yes please. 

_Flick the switch and the missile will fire  
I’m a heat seeker when I’m full of desire  
We’re all drawn to the heat of the flame  
‘Cause you wanna be a star in the half of fame  
I was born with glitter on my face  
My baby clothes made of leather and lace  
And all the girls in the club wanna know  
Where did all their pretty boys go?_

13\. Take That, “Love Love” (Izan Marvel Remix)  
“Come on Charles, they’re playing our song.” 

Do you really need the lyrics for this one?

14\. Adam Lambert, “Better than I Know Myself”  
Because one can’t live without the other, and because they really do know each other inside and out. 

_All along  
I tried to pretend it didn’t matter  
If I was alone  
But deep down I know  
If you were gone   
For even a day I wouldn’t know which way to turn  
‘Cause I’m lost without you_

_I know it gets hard sometimes  
But I could never  
Leave your side  
No matter what I say_

_‘Cause if I wanted to go  
I would’ve gone by now but  
I really need you near me   
To keep my mind of the edge  
If I wanted to leave I would have left by now   
But you’re the only one that knows me  
Better than I know myself _

_I get kind of dark  
Let it go too far  
I can be obnoxious at times   
But try and see my heart  
‘Cause I need you now  
So don’t let me down  
You’re the only thing in this world  
That I would die without _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. if anyone has other song suggestions I would love to hear them! And as always, thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been planning on writing a Christmas chapter for over 3 years, and now, in the middle of May, it's finally happening! I'll try and update at least a couple of times over the summer as well as keeping up with my other new fic. And speaking of writing two fics at once, I wrote half of this in the wrong tense the first time around because I was thinking about the other one so I apologize if there are any grammar mixups. I think i got them all though!

“You know how much I want to be inside you, darling,” Erik crooned. “And I will be very soon, I promise.” 

Behind him, Charles cleared his throat. “Would you two like to be left alone?” 

Erik smirked and trailed his fingers down the sleeve of his new McQueen dress. “Jealous?” 

“Of a dress? No. Of Alexander McQueen? Possibly.” Charles held up a pair of black garment bags. “Are you planning on getting dressed sometime today? Not that I mind you wandering about in only a towel.” 

Erik took one last longing look at the dress before shutting the closet door. “I'm saving McQueen for New Year's, anyway. Might as well go out with a bang.” he sighed and turned to face Charles. “Please tell me that's my Murad.”

“It is. And my...whatever this mystery dress is.” 

Erik raised an eyebrow. “You mean you haven't peeked?” 

Charles shrugged and passed him one of the garment bags. “You told me not to.” 

“I didn't think you'd listen,” Erik replied, unzipping the bag to reveal a glittering, icy blue minidress. “I wouldn't have, anyway.” 

That's because you have no patience.” 

“Also, I can't resist this much glitter,” Erik traced the swirls of sparkling jewels, Then draped the entire bundle onto the vanity chair next to him. “Well? Open it!” 

Charles did as he was told, something at which he seemed to be an expert, and carefully removed the hanger and dress. His eyes roved over the asymmetrical design, a pure white dress that was somehow even shorter than Erik's with a shock of gold bedazzlement slicing down the sleeveless side to the abdomen. 

“Erik this is...” Charles trailed off, suddenly noticing the hemline. “You said it would be conservative.” 

“It is. Just look at that high neckline. And one out of two sleeves isn't bad.” 

“That doesn't compensate for the extra six inches of thigh that slit will be showing!” Charles took a step backwards and sat down on the bed behind him. “I don't know if I can do this.” 

Erik sighed took the dress from Charles' lap, placing it on the bed beside him before taking Charles' hands in his own. “I know this is still new to you, but you can't hide this part of you anymore. But since I know you so well, I've gotten you something else.” Erik moved to the dresser and opened the top drawer to retrieve a small white package, which he gave to Charles. “Dance tights. Opaque, and concealing yet revealing. So you can show all the skin you want, just not your own. Also,” Erik continued, kneeling down to rest his forearms on Charles' knees, “a compromise. If you still don't want to wear this, Remy will be more than happy to trade you for a beautiful one piece Murad pantsuit before close this evening. But let me remind you, this is the last big bash at Zelda's. After tonight, those people will never even see you again. It's the best possible time to wear anything your heart desires.”

Charles forced a smile as he glanced back at the dress. 'The first time...was easier than I expected. Until afterwards, I mean.” 

“Are you still worried about that jerk from last week? He won't be back.” 

“It's not just him,” Charles admitted. “I'm just not used to being so...public. In here, it's safe. Away from people who aren't quite so accepting.”

“And Zelda's is also a safe space. Or at least, it was.” He shook his head. “I don't know how I'm going to get through tonight, knowing this is goodbye.” 

Charles took Erik's hands in his own. “I know what will improve your mood.” 

Erik's expression brightened. “Does it involve you taking your clothes off?” 

“No. Well, probably,” Charles grinned slyly. “But for now, let me go and get your Christmas present.” 

“I know I don't usually celebrate this holiday,” Erik said, standing up to let Charles off the bed, “but don't we exchange gifts on Christmas morning?” 

“It's our holiday, we can make our own rules,” Charles replied before disappearing down the hall. 

Erik shrugged and picked his garment bag up again, removing his dress to hold it up to various wig heads on the vanity. Redhead, brunette, blonde...

“Ugh, never again.” Erik tossed the blonde wig to one side. “You were a terrible investment.” He eyed his favourite auburn bob, the one he'd been wearing when he and Charles had first met. “Perfection.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Charles reappeared in the doorway and moved to hand Erik a red document envelope. “Merry Christmas, darling.”

“I’ve never gotten anything in an envelope except eviction notices,” Erik joked, sliding a finger under the seal. “I hope this is marginally more pleasant a surprise.” Charles remained silent while Erik removed the sheets inside. “Is this…oh, Charles, you didn’t.” His voice cracked on the final syllable. “You…how?” the words on the page before him blurred as tears formed unbidden in his eyes. “I just…how?”

Charles just smiled knowingly. “The details are unimportant. What matters is that once you sign those, Zelda’s is yours.”

Erik wavered, as though about to fall, and Charles immediately reached out and put his arms around him. “Do you want to sit down?”

“No,” Erik’s voice was muffled against Charles’ hair. “I want to hold you and never let go.”

“ I am more than alright with that.”

They stayed there, standing in the middle of the bedroom in each others' arms for a long moment until Erik finally broke the silence.

“I don’t know the first thing about running a business.”

Charles laughed. “Don’t worry, I thought of that. The club manager is more than happy to help you learn in exchange for significantly lowered rent and all overdue bills struck from the record.”

“So you paid him off.”

“Basically,” Charles admitted.

Erik sniffed and shifted to look him in the eye. “I should be angry about that, but this is the second time you’ve given me a home and I can’t...I can’t figure out how to express how damn much I love you.” 

Charles kissed him then, long and deep and full of all the things that neither of them knew how to say aloud. “You already do,” he said simply. “Every single moment I’m with you. Tonight,” he continued, running his fingers lithely down Erik's chest, “we celebrate, and Zelda's announces new ownership. For now...”

“Is this the part where I get to unwrap you, too?” Erik leaned down to nip at Charles' throat. “You really know how to spoil me rotten.” 

Charles moaned softly as Erik's teeth grazed his skin. “It's adorable that you think this is all for your benefit.” 

Erik undid Charles' belt buckle with practised ease, freeing Charles' straining erection in matter of seconds before dropping to his knees. He flashed Charles a mischievous grin before running his tongue from base to tip of Charles' length. 

Charles inhaled sharply as his eyes fluttered shut. “You are such a tease.” 

“And you love it.” Erik kissed his head and took him in his mouth, gripping Charles' hips to guide him slowly deeper. He repeated the movement again and again, agonizingly slow even as Charles gasped and bucked forward in response. Erik released him only for a moment to tease the swollen tip with his tongue before sucking him again, at only a slightly faster pace. 

“God...Erik you're perfect...” Charles moaned and thrust into his mouth, and this time Erik didn't slow him down. As he pulled back to circle the head with his tongue again, he released Charles' hips with one hand to pump Charles' erection. Charles' breathing quickened in response and Erik smirked only briefly and he continued to move tongue and hand in tandem. 

“Erik, ohhh Erik--” Charles' body shuddered as he came, Erik swallowing most of him while allowing some to run down his chin. When Erik let go of him, Charles dropped to his knees as well and kissed his lover, breathless and savouring the taste of himself on Erik's lips. Erik caught sight of Charles' glassy, blown out pupils only briefly as Charles' leveraged himself into his lap and rested his cheek on Erik's shoulder, legs draped limply around his waist. 

“Shall I take you to bed now?” Erik murmured in his ear.

“To sleep or to fuck?” 

A wicked grin spread across Erik's face, and Charles shifted slightly as he began to feel Erik's own arousal. “I love when you swear. It sounds so much dirtier in that accent of yours.” 

“Well. If you _fuck_ \--” emphasis on the word this time “--me too thoroughly, I won't be able to wear heels with my dress.” 

“Does that mean you'll wear it tonight?” Erik rubbed himself against Charles' thighs through the towel he was still wearing. 

“Only if I can still walk when you're done with me.” 

~

A few hours later, a still shirtless Erik sat opposite Charles at the island in the kitchen, eating leftover pasta while Charles answered Erik's questions about Zelda's. 

“So, I'm the owner, right? That mean the club manager pays me rent?”

Charles nodded as he swallowed a mouthful of spaghetti. “Mmhmm. They pay the rent, which I should remind you is less than what the previous owner charged. They're also responsible for paying utilities and food and liquor invoices to their respective parties.”

“So what exactly does my job entail?” Erik asked. “I mean, as incredibly ecstatic as I am to be the reason Zelda's stays open, it would be nice to be a little more...involved.” 

“I knew you'd take a hands on approach with this,” Charles rested his elbows on the counter, twirling his fork in the bowl. 

“Which is why you talked to the manager about me.” 

Another nod. “He was planning to hire, that is, until they received a foreclosure notice. “You'll be working as an assistant manager of sorts, only with a lot more, shall we say, privileges that come with actually owning the place.” 

“And what about my T.A work for you?” Erik pushed his still half full bowl to one side and rested his elbows on the counter.

“I'll hire a new T.A for next semester if need be. If you did wanted to stay on, off course I'd love to have you but I get the feeling the club will be your priority. Oh, and one more thing,” Charles added. “The previous owner is taking the rights to the name with them.”

Erik gaped at him. “I can't call it Zelda's anymore?” 

“I'm sorry. We had a very long, drawn out argument about it, but they were extremely stubborn and agreed only to sell the space, not the name.” 

“But everything else is staying put, right?” 

“Everything. It's literally going to remain exactly the same on the inside—unless you wanted to make some changes, that is.” 

Erik pulled his bowl back towards him and finally took a bite of his pasta, chewing thoughtfully. Then, “Alright. I can do this. What's the manager's name? I guess I get to meet him tonight.” 

“His name's Azazel.”

Erik's fork grated loudly, painfully against the bottom of the bowl, the sound echoing in the room, and they both winced. “Azazel? No. That can't be right.”

“I know it's a strange name,” Charles replied, oblivious to Erik's distress, “but it's real. He signed it on the papers for the club.” 

“No, you don't understand.” Erik shoved his bowl away again. “Whenever I failed to pay my rent on time, my landlady sent Azazel to collect. He knows me as this unreliable, pathetic piece of shit who cares more about partying than paying the bills.” 

“First off, you are none of those things.” Charles rested his elbows on the counter, covering Erik's free hand with his own. “And second, It has to have been months since you last saw each other. Maybe he won't recognize you at all. He didn't even say anything when I mentioned your name.” 

Erik shook his head. “I don't think he knew me by name. But if he recognizes me tonight, I'll be lucky if he trusts me with washing the dishes.” He slid his hand out from under Charles', picked up his dish, and moved to throw out his unfinished food. 

“Hey,” Charles flashed him a pointed look. “You should be hungry. Especially after all the calories we burned this afternoon.” 

Erik sighed and dumped the remains in the trash. “I can't eat when I'm stressed.”

Charles stood and took his own empty bowl to the sink, rinsing it out before leaving it there to soak. “Relax, my love, things will work out. They always do.” He slipped his arms around Erik's wist and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades. 

Erik leaned into Charles and closed his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if this is even real. I wonder if I just drank myself into a coma that night and imagined meeting you. All of this absurd perfection is just some fairy tale fever dream.” 

“I'm entirely certain that it's not.” 

“That's exactly what a dream version of you would say.” 

“Sometimes I wonder if you're real, too,” Charles confessed quietly. 

“Sometimes I wish I wasn't.” Erik twisted to face his boyfriend, immediately mortified at his own words. “I didn't mean to say that.” 

Charles' bright blue gaze seemed to bore into his very soul. “I know your sense of self worth is extremely skewed when you're feeling low, and especially when you're not in your comfort zone. Might I suggest we solve both of those problems by going upstairs and getting dressed for tonight? I'll let you do my makeup,” he added, before Erik could interject. 

“You know I can't refuse an offer like that,” the corner of Erik's mouth turned up in a half smile. “You're right. Let's go get ready and walk into the club like we own it. Oh, wait.”  
Charles grinned at Erik and took his hands. “Come on, lets go and play with your new palette.” 

~

The lineup outside the club was double its usual length, but as always, Erik and Charles were immediately hustled to the front. Ignoring the groans behind them, Logan waved them in, but stopped Erik with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Thanks for saving this place,” Logan offered gruffly. 

Erik shuffled his feet awkwardly, wincing as his heel scraped the pavement. “Um. It was really more Charles' doing. I'm just a signature.” 

“Don't be so modest, kid. You'll fit right in here, just like you always have.” Logan clapped his shoulder again, then turned back to the winding lineup. “Hey! I said up against the wall! Keep the sidewalk open!” 

Erik smiled to himself and caught up with Charles, who was waiting near the coat check. “Everything alright?” Charles asked.

Erik nodded. “Actually, I think it is.” He looped his arms through Charles' and they entered the club side by side, where Allison Blaire's latest hit, “Dazzler”, was playing at top volume. Erik made a beeline for the bar as always, while Charles tugged self-consciously at the slitted hem of his dress and glanced around, hoping that despite feeling like a beacon in pure white, he would blend easily into the glitter-encrusted crowd around him. 

“It's really packed toni—hey!” Erik let go of Charles' arm as Jubilee appeared out of nowhere and threw her arms around his neck, causing him to stumble backward in his Louboutins. He waved his arms comically and managed to throw a pleading glance in Charles' direction. Charles, for his part, just grinned and held up his hands. After what felt like an agonizingly long moment to Erik, Jubilee let go and beamed up at him. 

“I'm so glad it's you,” she shouted over the music. “This was always your place, and now it's literally your place!” 

She grabbed both Erik and Charles by the hand and dragged them to the bar. “Champagne tonight,” she announced, taking two glasses from another bartender that Erik vaguely recognized from Charles' lectures. Charles seemed to recognize the kid as well, and immediately turned his back to the bar. Logic told him that even Jubilee hadn't recognized him in the black bob wig, false eyelashes, and red lipstick the first time around, but anxiety told him not to take the risk. 

“Word travels fast apparently,” Erik commented, passing Charles a champagne flute. “How long until the official announcement?” 

“Midnight,” Charles answered, bringing his glass to his lips. “Once the club fills up a little more.” 

“Great. That's lots of time for a lot more bubbly.” 

Charles raised an eyebrow. “I hope you're not planning on being completely wasted by then.” 

“Oh, you know me. It takes a lot more of, what is this, like 12 percent?” He glanced at Jubilee, who waved a hand dismissively. “12 percent alcohol isn't enough to knock me down.” 

Charles shrugged and downed the rest of the wine, and Erik followed suit, only to have them immediately replaced by the kid at the bar. Erik nodded approvingly. “You trained him well, Jubilee.” 

Jubilee grinned. “Yeah, Jono used to bartend in England. He moved here mid-semester, but because of his grades they let him in anyway. I helped him get caught up.”

Jono Starsmore, that was his name, Erik remembered. He hadn't recognized him without that extra long black scarf wrapped around the lower half of his face. This time, when Erik looked at him, he noticed a latticework of burn scars decorating his jaw and chin, which had to be why he wore the scarf at school. He smirked at his friend. “Yeah, I bet you did.” 

Jubilee blushed scarlet. “I mean, who can resist a sexy British accent?” 

Erik snaked an arm around Charles' waist, and Charles automatically molded himself perfectly against Erik's side. “What are you two going on about now?”

Jubilee laughed. “Case in point.” 

“Mm. The accent is definitely a bonus.” When Charles appeared confused, Erik lightly kissed his cheek, careful not to leave a lipstick mark. “Jono over there and Jubilee are closer than coworkers, it seems.” 

“Ah.” Charles finished the rest of his champagne, and instantly had it refilled by the young man in question. Jono, for his part, didn't recognize his professor at all, and Charles finally relaxed ever so slightly. Erik smiled over the rim of his glass as he felt the change in Charles' body language, and took one final sip before handing the glass to Jubilee. “Time to burn some of this nervous energy on the dance floor.” 

Charles put his half full drink back on the counter and remained glued to Erik's side as they weaved through the growing crowd. There, in the dim ambient lighting, surrounded by people of every gender, size, and sexuality, Erik could forget the entire world existed. It was just him and Charles, bodies pressed flush against each other, moving in time to the music that seemed to come from all around them and thrummed deep inside his chest like a heartbeat. Nothing mattered here except Charles' bare thighs under his fingertips, Charles' breath hot against his throat, Charles sliding his hands up Erik's shoulders and around his neck to kiss him, only a little clumsily as they move in tandem, the taste of champagne still sweet and tingling on his lips. He knew he was drunk, was conscious of his head spinning, but it wasn't the two glasses of bubbly that had him so intoxicated. 

All too soon, the music died down, the crowd slows and stopped moving altogether, and cool air swiftly moved in to fill the small but palpable gap between them. They were still holding each other as they turned to look at the stage, where the DJ dropped her headphones on the table and headed to the bar while a tall, shadowed figure stepped up to take her place. A tall, dark haired man stood in the pink tinted spotlight, all sharp, tailored edges from the precise cuts of his crimson two-piece suit to the perfectly trimmed angles of his black goatee. Erik recognized him immediately as Azazel, the guy who showed up at his door four months ago to collect on the rent. And the month before that. And the month before that. Erik shuddered and ducked his head down beside Charles' ear. 

“Are you sure he won't remember me?” 

“You'll be fine,” Charles reassures him with a soft smile. 

“That's not an answer.” Erik squeezes his eyes shut, opens them again. “Do I have to go up there?” 

“Only if you want to own the club.” 

“God damn it.” Erik faced the stage again, holding Charles' hand in a death grip while Azazel addressed the audience before him. 

“This was meant to be a goodbye speech,” he was saying. “Yes, I know,” he added in response to the chorus of “nooooo”s coming from the crowd. “But Christmas is a time for beginnings, not ends. And that's why I am absolutely ecstatic to announce that Zelda's will remain open for business under a new name and ownership!”

The crowd cheered, and Erik couldn't help but smile. This place meant so much to everyone here, not just him. He let go of Charles' hand, gave him a quick kiss, and started side-shuffling through the crowd towards the stage. 

“I'm sure you're all wondering who your mysterious benefactor is,” Azazel continued, eyes sweeping the floor until his gaze landed on Erik, who had nearly made it to the steps, stage left. “It is my pleasure to introduce someone I'm sure many of you know already. This is as much their home as it is yours. Please welcome Erika Lehnsherr!” 

Erik started at the use of his alternate name, and glanced back at Charles, who was grinning and clapping with everyone else. Thank you, Erik mouthed at him before ascending the steps. This was going to be infinitely easier as Erika. 

Azazel shook Erika's hand and leaned in closed to speak in his ear. “You've come a long way, Lehnsherr. I'm proud of you.” 

Erika's stared at him. “You really mean that?” 

Azazel chuckled. “Of course. I'm sure you hated having Emma as a landlady as much as I hated her as a boss. I do love the irony of you taking her place.” 

“Hold on. Frost owned Zelda's?” 

“I'll explain later. For now...” Azazel gestured to the microphone on its stand and Erika obligingly approached centre stage. He'd have to get the details from Azazel afterwards. That...was a lot of faces looking up at him. It didn't look like that many when he was down there, but that had been when he was focused on Charles. Charles, who was beaming at him like no one else in the room even existed. Erika took a deep breath and began to speak. 

“I'd like to take full credit for saving Zelda's, but in truth, this was just as much a gift to me as it is to you,” he said. “When I first moved to New York, this place was all I had. I didn't know how to be me except within these four walls. I learned to live, to love--” a knowing smile directed at Charles “--and how to hold my liquor.” Laughter and murmurs of agreement from the crowd, and Azazel smirked behind him. “And I know everyone in this room has done the same, in one form or another. So here's to another year of dancing and drinking and doing whatever the hell makes us happiest right here, right now, among the people that help us to be our best possible selves.” 

Loud cheering and applause filled the club, but the only approval Erik cared about was gazing up at him through Sugarpill Supreme eyelashes with adoration and...oh yes, that was the unmistakable glint of arousal in those beautiful blue eyes. He was more than ready to rejoin his love down there in the throng of people, doing everything he'd just said and then taking Charles to bed to do exactly what made him happiest---and he had to get off this stage before anyone noticed him getting hard. The nude gaff he was wearing under his dress could only hide so much. 

As he turned to do just that, Azazel clapped him on the back with a grin, showing off pair of sharp, glinting canines. Those had to be fake, Erik thought. He would have remembered those from the collection visits. 

“You did well,” Azazel told him. 

“Thanks.” Erik shifted restlessly. “As much as I would love to talk shop with you right now, there's someone I need to see first.” 

“Of course!” Azazel glanced knowingly at Charles, the glittering jewels of his dress catching the light just so as he weaved through the dancers towards Erik. “Christmas Eve is no time for business. Come by in a couple of days, we'll sort things out then. Your Charles gave me the number,” he added wen Erik went to interrupt. “And speaking of which...” he nodded over Erik's shoulder and Erik turned to find Charles waiting at the bottom of the steps. 

Erik immediately went to him, accepting Charles' hand as when his stiletto heel stuck in the crack on the second step. The second they were booth ground level again, Charles wrapped his arms around Erik's neck and kissed him, soft but insistent. 

“Mm. You don't taste like champagne anymore,” Erik murmured against his mouth. 

“Neither do you.” 

“Drinks?”

“Drinks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Erik's [Zuhair Murad dress](http://assets.vogue.com/photos/55c650c108298d8be215925d/master/pass/_MUR0789.jpg)  
> 2\. Charles' [dress](http://www.livingly.com/runway/Couture+Fall+2012/Alexandre+Vauthier/Details/y9PervCE_ZA)  
> 3\. The [Zuhair Murad pantsuit](http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WCgCFP4VXaY/Uvkdm6yn2cI/AAAAAAAAFPs/nTSE2OXiFUA/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-02-08+at+6.14.38+PM.png)  
> 4\. This is a [gaff](http://www.thebreastformstore.com/mens-gaffs2.aspx), for those who want to know


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I'm finally bringing this one to a close after like 5 years of working on it off and on. It's time to pursue other projects, and as much as I love this one I've been on it for too long. Thank you to everyone who' stuck with me this long, and to those who just discovered this in the past year with my newest updates!

Erika paced his new office restlessly, narrowly missing the cherry wood desk with each turn. Since taking on the role of club manager after Christmas, Erik had transitioned into being Erika on a daily basis, explaining to Charles that he felt more comfortable and confident like this, but no, he didn't see the need to switch pronouns right now. Today he was wearing a navy knee-length sweater dress and black tights with Charles' favourite auburn wig and (insert type of boots here). Right now, however, his confidence was dropping by the second. 

“What if they don't like the new name? What if no one comes? What if they come and then blame for ruining the club?” 

Charles stood from behind the desk and walked around to face his partner, his arms encircling Erika's waist. “They will love the new name as much as I do. They will come because they're curious and this is their second home as much as it is ours. And you haven't ruined anything. You've changed the name for legal reasons, which everyone knows, and you've managed to book bloody Lila Cheney of all people on extremely short notice for New Year's Eve, and even I don't know how you pulled that one off. Tonight will be fantastic, and they will love you for it.” 

Erika smiled and kissed him, losing himself in Charles for those few seconds. “We go way back. Lila's the least of my worries, anyway. I'm just glad the renovations actually finished on time.” 

After Christmas, Erika had met with Azazel to discuss the changes that needed to be made before the grand re-opening on New Year's Eve. Erika had wanted to maintain the inside of the club, changing only the facade to reflect the new name and management as per the contract agreement. Azazel, however, had pointed out a few other little things that needed to be fixed – upgrades to the lighting, replacing the well worn dance floor, and a few other small maintenance concerns that had previously been invisible to Erika as a patron. Charles, of course, had spared no expense in bringing in a team of workers that, for generous compensation, we able to have everything up and running in only a few days. 

“It's amazing what people will do for the right incentive,” Charles replies. “No hurry and get changed before it's time to open. I brought your makeup, too. Well, what I figured you needed, at least.” 

“Did you bring me McQueen?” Erik moved to unzip the black garment bag hanging on the back of his office door. His office. He'd have to get used to that. 

Charles rolled his eyes. “No, I didn't think you'd need the dress that you were saving specifically for this occasion, and that you feel the need to greet almost as lovingly as you do me every morning when you wake up.” 

Erika removed the auburn wig and dropped it on the desk before pulling his sweater dress over his head. “I trust you, darling. I'm just anxious tonight.” 

“I know. And I'm here for you.” 

He slipped into the McQueen and straightened the hemline, revelling in the way every inch of the fabric perfectly clung to his body. “God, I love you.” 

“Are you talking to me or the dress?”

In response, Erika turned and draped his arms over Charles' shoulders before capturing his mouth again, this time for a longer, deeper kiss. “I'd be lying if I didn't say both,” Erik murmured when they finally broke apart. 

Charles just smiled and reached into his leather satchel, which was lying half open on the desk. He pulled out Erika's makeup bag, emblazoned with the words “No one looks back on their life and remembers the nights they had plenty of sleep” and handed it to him. “You've always said sleep was never an option,” Charles commented, digging back into his bag for the Morphe 35D smoky palette he'd thrown in there as well. “Here. This will match your dress.” 

“I love when you choose my makeup for me. You have such an eye for colour.” Erika took the makeup and turns to leave the room. The nearest mirror was in the non-gendered employee washroom down the hall. “Meet me downstairs? Jubilee should be here by now, and Azazel's there too.” 

“Of course.”

~

Charles wasn't sure how he'd ended up behind the bar mixing bright blue drinks with Jubilee. One minute he was joking with Azazel about how he'd never worked a day in his life besides teaching, and the next he'd been sent behind the counter to learn a trick or two. 

“Are you sure about the absinthe?” he asked, pouring Blue Curacao into the cocktail shaker before him. 

“It's not a Corpse Reviver without it, Charles,” Jubilee grinned and retrieved a bottle of Pernod from under the counter. “Besides, you know what they say, absinthe makes the heart grow fonder! Not that you and Erika need any help in that area,” she added, nudging Charles with her elbow. 

“I'm fairly certain that's not how the saying goes.” 

“And I'm fairly certain that it is.” 

“Are you two drinking without me?” Erika walked up to the bar and leaned over for a quick kiss from Charles before picking up the cocktail shaker, eyeing the contents inside. “It matches my outfit, anyway.” 

Jubilee snatched it back and screwed the lid on tight before handing it to Charles. “Here, you do the honours.” While Charles did as he was told, Jubilee turned to grab five martini glasses from behind her. She poured barely a finger width of absinthe into them, taking the time to swirl the liquor around in each glass. 

“Azazel will be back in a few minutes with Lila,” Charles said, carefully pouring the newly mixed cocktail into each glass and pushing one towards Erik. “Here, tell me if this is okay.” 

“Lila freaking Cheney,” Jubilee shook her head in awe. “I can't believe she's here! I hope I don't say anything stupid when she comes over! Oh, do you think she'd sign my CD after, or would it be too weird if I asked?”

Erik laughed and took a sip of the proffered drink. “Mm. Perfection. Corpse Reviver?” 

Charles nodded, clearly pleased with himself. “Jubilee taught me how to make it.” 

“It's delicious. I haven't had one of these in ages. But you know, absinthe makes the heart grow fonder.” 

“I told you!” Jubilee pointed a finger at Charles. “It's a thing!” 

Charles held up both hands in mock surrender. “Obviously I was mistaken.” 

“Looks like we're just in time for drinks.” Azazel joined the group with a woman who immediately strode up to Erik and gave him a hug. 

“Missed you, babe,” she grinned and ran a hand through the shorter, pixie cut half of her dark hair. The other half fell to bone straight to her chin in an extreme asymmetrical bob cut, which Erik made a mental note to try out in the form of a wig at some point. 

“Missed you too, Lila,” Erika reached out to take Charles' hand, who had come around the bar to greet their guest. “I want you to meet my...my partner, Charles.” 

Lila gave Charles the once over in his dark jeans, lilac button-down, and black vest. “Damn, girl, the way you two look at each other is something else. I never figured you for the settle down type, but wow. I can tell right away you two are the real deal.” 

Charles beamed at Erika, who let go of his hand to circle his arm around his waist. “I can't imagine being anywhere on this earth but with him,” Erik answered truthfully, meeting Charles' gaze instead of Lila's. 

“You two are adorable. And speaking of adorable, you wanna introduce me to your girl behind the bar? She looks like she's ready to implode over there.” 

Charles glanced back at Jubilee, who was staring, awestruck, at Lila. “Oh, Jubilee's just really excited to meet you. She loves your music.” 

Lila chuckled and reached over the bar, offering her hand to Jubilee. “Jubilee is it? Say, that would make a great stage name.” 

Jubilee stared at her, momentarily unable to speak or move, hurriedly shook Lila's hand. “It's freaking amazing to meet you!” She blurted out. “I've seen all your videos, and I bought all your albums, even the hard copies, I know it's weird nowadays but I just love having the CDs and oh god I wasn't going to freak out and now I am I'm so sorry but wow it's really you!” 

Lila just laughed some more. “Hey, take a breath, kid. And thank you, it's always great to meet a real fan. Listen, after we go watch the great reveal outside you can come on backstage with me to meet the band, maybe help me out with one last sound check. That sound good?”

Jubilee's eyes widened. “Oh, my god. For real?” 

“I'll take that as a yes. Now come on around, and gimme one of those cocktails while you're at it. I think Erika's got something to show us.” 

“That's right. For better or for worse, it's time to get this party started.” Erika led the way out the front doors of the club, with Azazel, Charles, Lila, and Jubilee following close behind. 

Lila was the only one semi-prepared for the winter chill, and she wrapped her leather jacket tightly around her while Charles shifted closer to Erika for warmth. Jubilee, meanwhile, shivered and bounced up and down on her heels, trying to keep warm. “It is freezing out here. This better be worth it.” She glanced at Azazel, who seemed unfazed by the weather in his crisp black suit. “Aren't you cold?” 

Azazel merely shrugged. “I'm Russian.” His eyes remained on Erika, who was fiddling with an app on his Android, while Charles murmured something that made Erika smile. “Are  
you ready for this?” Azazel asked. 

Erika looked at him, thumb hovering just above the touch screen. “Let's find out.” He swiped a command on the screen, and on cue the swirling, cursive letters above the entrance burst to life, blazing purple and red against the almost black evening sky. 

“Welcome,” Erika announced, “to Club Avalon!” 

“It's perfect, my love,” Charles slipped into Erika's arms and leaned up to meet his lips. “Even better than what you described.” 

“He's right,” Azazel gazed up at the glowing letters, approval apparent in his tone. “You're already breathing new life into this place. She'll be even more vibrant than ever before under your leadership.” 

“That...that means a lot to me,” Erika replied. “Thank you.” 

“I love the font,” Jubilee put in. “What did you use?” 

“Oh, a little used stock font called 'Magneto',” he told her. “I thought it suited the club.” 

“You thought right,” Lila agreed. “I like your style.” 

Jubilee shivered for the umpteenth time. “Cool, so we all agree it's a gorgeous sign. Can we go in now before we all get hypothermia?” 

By way of reply, Azazel walked back up the steps to the entrance and held the door for Jubilee, who immediately rushed inside, followed closely by Lila. Charles, however, paused at the door and motioned for Azazel to go on without them. 

“Aren't you cold?” Erika asked. 

“A little,” Charles admitted. “But you keep me warm. Come here.” Charles kissed him then, teasing into Erika's mouth with his tongue. Erika's fingers twined into Charles' hair, his other hand pressing gently into the small of Charles' back to bring them closer together. 

Charles leaned up on his toes to nose up Erika's jawline, teeth grazing his earlobe as Charles whispered, “You're doing something incredible here.” 

“I'd like to do some incredible things to you in a minute.” 

“I mean it. This is important. Tonight is important, and you're going to own it, just like I knew you would.” He shivered as a frigid wind whipped past them. 

“In all seriousness, thank you,” Erika told him softly. “for giving me this chance, and for supporting me. Now let me support you and get you indoors where it's warm.” 

Charles grinned up at him, teeth chattering, and let Erika lead him back inside. 

~ 

Erika watched from the second level as the first patrons entered the club, leaning both elbows on the railing to appear far more relaxed than he felt. When Charles came up beside him and put a shot glass in his hand, he downed it immediately and handed it back, all the while keeping his eyes on the steadily growing crowd below. This was the make or break moment, he knew. He didn't want to be outside, didn't want to know what people were saying about the newly christened Club Avalon. 

“They love the name,” Charles said, leaning back against the railing. “They think the play on Club is quite clever.” 

“How do you know?” 

Charles held up Erika's phone. “Logan is texting you. He also says that the line's almost triple its usual length. You're going to have a full house tonight.” 

“Thanks to Lila,” Erika replied. 

“Thanks to you,” Charles corrected him. “You put this together, you planned and executed the renovations, and you got Lila here.” 

“Well.” Erika straightened and took Charles' hand. “If it's my party, then I want to enjoy it. I can't stay up here forever, now can I?' 

“No,” Charles agreed as they descended the staircase together. “All the good bartenders are downstairs.” 

“You mean Jubilee and her new boyfriend.” 

“They're not a couple.” 

“Not yet they aren't, Erika smirked. “Just wait til midnight and we'll see who she's kissing.” he flinched as a younger man he didn't recognize, clad in black leather pants and matching jacket with silver epaulets materialized in front of him. “Uh, do I know you?” 

“You're the new boss, right?' the stranger said. When Erika only nodded, he added, “I just wanted to say thanks for keeping this place alive. No matter what you call it, this is home.” The man smiled brightly. “I met my boyfriend here, you know. We've been together for almost three years.” 

Erika just stared at him, uncertain of what to say. Luckily, Charles stepped forward and spoke up. “That's wonderful! We met here as well four months ago. It's really amazing that the club means so much to so many people, don't you think, darling?” he nudged Erika, who blinked and refocused. “Yeah, of course. We need a place to call our own. All of us.” 

“For real. Well, see you around!” The man excused himself around a group of people and disappeared into the crowd. 

Before Erika could say anything more, he was approached by one of the Sunday night drag performers, who again thanked him as well for reopening the club. Erika could only nod and offer a brief smile as he attempted to shuffle over to the bar, with Charles following close behind. He was stopped by four other people on the way, all smiling and thanking him for reopening tonight, and by the third round Erika found himself offering a genuine smile in return. Everyone was happy, and this was going to work out, just as Charles had said. 

“Am I allowed to say I told you so?” Charles teased as they finally made it to the bar. 

“You were right,” Erika conceded. “The place is packed and everyone loves it here. I don't know why I was so worried. Or why I'm still feeling so wound up.” 

“Hey, sorry guys,” Jubilee poured three tequila shots as she spoke and passed them down the bar. “It's crazy here tonight! At least Jono's helping out, and I've got Paige on table service as well. So what'll it be?” 

Erika glanced at Charles, who shrugged in response. “Whatever you want, darling.” 

“Hmm. Where'd that bottle of absinthe go?” Erika asked. 

Jubilee raised both eyebrows. “You sure you wanna go there?” 

“It's New Year's Eve. Might as well go out with a bang.” 

She grabbed two lowball glasses and put them on the counter, then put a shot glass inside each one. “Fine. But if I do this for you, you're both done for the night.” 

“Worth it.” 

“Remember you said that.” Jubilee reached under the counter for the absinthe bottle and poured the alcohol into each shot glass. She traded the bottle for the pitcher of ice water on the counter next to her and slowly, steadily, poured a thin stream over the absinthe. The liquor seemed to come alive as it spilled over the sides of the shot glass into the larger one, creating a classic waterfall effect. She did the same for the second one, then carefully removed both shot glasses without touching the swirling liquid. 

“Here,” she pushed the glasses towards Charles and Erika. “And I'm telling the rest of the staff not to serve either of you.” 

“Is it really that potent?” Charles asked, picking up his drink. 

“It really is. And your boyfriend is such an alcoholic that I know he'll be back for more in the next twenty minutes. So I'm taking some initiative just to be safe.” 

“You know me so well. Cheers.” Erika clinked his glass against Charles' and took a sip. God, he hadn't done this in so long,, but he knew this would make his anxiety disappear faster than anything else. 

Charles glanced dubiously into the glass, the back to Erika, then back to the glass before taking a tentative sip himself. “Am I going to regret this in the morning?” 

“Probably. For now, Azazel's reserved us a table, stage right.” 

Once again the pair weaved their way through the crowd, which only intensified as they edged around the dance floor to a booth for four, where Azazel was already waiting. 

“It took you long enough to get here,” he commented. 

Charles slid into the booth first, followed closely by Erika, their thigh touching unseen under the table. He held up his glass by way of explanation. “We were distracted.” 

Before Azazel could reply, the entire club was drenched in darkness, and there were loud cheers, followed by sounds of shuffling feet and bodies squeezing around each other to get closer to the stage. Two spotlights turned on, intersecting and illuminating a familiar figure on stage. She strummed two chords on her guitar, and the crowd cheered again, immediately recognizing the song. No introduction needed, she launched into her set while the audience sung along to every word. 

“She's fantastic,” Charles leaned in close to speak in Erika's ear. “And her sound is so....clear.” 

“That's probably the absinthe talking,” Erika answered, taking another sip of his own drink. “Have you noticed how vivid the coloured lights look now?” 

“My skin feels weird. But good. Like everything is so...clear.” 

“You said that. Maybe don't finish the rest,” Erika told him, sliding both glasses away from them. Charles' was only half drank, but Erika had made sure to finish his. Charles was right though, everything did seem much clearer now. His guests were having a fantastic time, and Azazel was happy with their success, and Charles was here, now, with him, and that was all he needed to pull him out of the seat and onto the dance floor. 

“This next song is dedicated to a close friend of mine, and their partner,” Lila was saying. “Seeing you two together, being so uninhibited and in love, makes me realize what Club Avalon is really all about. Live, love, dance, right Erika?” 

Erika saluted her from the audience and turned his attention back to Charles as Lila began to play, the first chords of “I Will Steal Your Heart” reverberating around them. Charles' hands on his bare skin felt electrifying, like the first time they danced together, and he wasn't sure anymore how much of it was the absinthe. Moments collided in his mind's eye, their first dance, their second dance, every single dance on this floor and in the kitchen and in the bedroom and then all of those moments came together into this single, perfect feeling and Erika knew that this was where he was always meant to be. Breathless and drunk on both the absinthe and each other, neither of them noticed that the crowd had stopped dancing and was now counting down. 

“...4....3...2...” 

Charles grabbed his lover and pulled him down into a deep, unyielding kiss just in time for screams of “Happy New Year!” to fill the air around them. When they finally broke apart, Charles grinned at him. “We almost missed it.” 

“I'm sure we'll have plenty more moments like this,” Erika matched his smile and held him close, cheek resting against Charles' hair. 

“What happened to here and now?” 

“Maybe...maybe looking to the future isn't so scary anymore.” 

'Now that really is music to my ears.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. [the Morphe 35D smoky eye palette](https://www.morphebrushes.com/collections/pro-makeup-palettes/products/35d-35-color-dark-smoky-palette)  
> 2\. [Erika's makeup bag](http://www.sourpussclothing.com/gals/beauty-supplies/make-up-cases/spinx-plenty-sleep-make-up-bag.html)  
> 3\. [The Corpse Reviver No. Blue](http://www.absolutdrinks.com/en/drinks/corpse-reviver-no-blue/)  
> 4\. [Lila's haircut](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/444519425693666953/)  
> 5\. ["I Will Steal Your Heart"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dNcl3NMEXPo) music video by Lila Cheney, featuring Dazzler and the New Mutants!  
> 6\. And of course Erika's McQueen is that beautiful blue dress from couple of chapters back!


End file.
